


Doctor Kageyama

by majesticartax



Series: Doctor Kageyama [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Doctor Kageyama, Fluff, M/M, Professional Athlete Hinata, Sequels Likely, Smut, god help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-12-18 10:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11872563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticartax/pseuds/majesticartax
Summary: Life becomes difficult for Hinata Shouyou when he needs a prostate exam.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is so silly :D
> 
> But really, lets all please thank the "anon" over on Tumblr who prompted this story ;)
> 
> <3

Hinata squirms, kicking his heels against the carpeted floor of the waiting room. He really shouldn’t even be here; it’s not like he’s  _dying_  or anything. And it’s really none of Kenma’s business how many times a day he pees!

He’s his roommate, not his  _mom_ – why the hell is he even paying attention to that.

“Pervert…” he mutters to himself.

The old woman across from him suddenly looks up from her book. She winks at him.

He looks away quickly, cheeks aflame.

“Hinata? Hinata Shouyou?”

_Oh thank god._

Hinata jumps up at the call of his name and follows the nurse to the exam room. 

“So what brings you in today?” She asks, fitting Hinata with the blood pressure cuff after he hops up on the table.

“Um…” he mumbles, “I guess I pee too much.”

The nurse smiles. She’s cute – small and blonde. Not exactly his type, but—

What? He knows when girls are cute!

“Alright,” she says over the sound of the velcro as she rips the cuff off, still with a smile, “the doctor will be in shortly.”

“Thank you,” he replies, looking around the small room while the door clicks shut. The walls are blue. The table he’s sitting on is blue. The counter with a box of extra-large gloves sitting on it is blue. The gloves are fucking blue.

Hinata feels… contrast-y.

He could be doing _literally_  anything else with his time right now. It’s the summer, for Christ sake! He’s got things to do, balls to spike, gardening to…

Okay he doesn’t garden, but if he  _did_ —

He startles at a knock at the door.

“Y-yes! Come in!”

There’s a pause, and then:

“I was planning on it,” a deep voice rumbles as the door swings open.

And there, absently shutting the door while staring down at Hinata’s chart, is the most attractive man Hinata has ever seen.

He swallows.

And when eyes finally raise to his, Hinata decides that blue is his new favorite color.

Hinata has to consciously snap his mouth shut to hide his awe.

The doctor’s long white coat seems to accentuate his height – his long legs, primarily – and Hinata can see the way his t-shirt stretches slightly over his well-formed chest through the part in it.

“Wh-where—“ Hinata rasps out. His face burns and he clears his throat, trying again: “Where’s Dr. Ukai?”

“Oh, he retired a few months ago,” the doctor says, bored, carefully slipping Hinata’s chart in a slot on the door, “I’m Dr. Kageyama. Call me Tobio.”

“Sho—H-Hinata,” Hinata stutters, kicking himself. “I’m Hinata… Shouyou.”

The doctor gives him a blank stare, and when he steps forward, Hinata instinctively leans backwards, eyes wide. “Yeah. I know,” Tobio replies.

And something in his answer gives Hinata pause.  _Aren’t doctors supposed to be friendly?_  He thinks to himself. He frowns. “Nice to meet you,” he presses.

But the doctor just hums some uninterested agreement, stepping forward once more and reaching a hand into his breast pocket. “What brings you in?” He asks flatly, fishing out a pen-light and clicking it on, flashing it into Hinata’s eyes.

“Ah—um,” Hinata blinks.  _Jesus, is it this guy’s first day?_  “I… isn’t it in my chart?”

Dr. Friendly just hums again, replacing the light into his pocket.

“So then—“ Hinata’s breath catches when the doctor steps forward fucking  _closer,_ almost between Hinata’s legs and raises two… very large, very  _nice,_ well-manicured hands up towards him. The doctor stills, fingers inches from his face.

“What?”  

Hinata looks rapidly from hand to hand, lips parted. “U-um… shouldn’t you be wearing gloves?”

And Tobio drops his hands, quirking a brow. “Are you dirty?”

“What!” Hinata gasps, affronted as hell. “No!”

“Well then,” he raises his hands again, and for the first time, Hinata can see the flicker of a smile tugging at the very corner of his lips. It’s gone in a second. “Gloves aren’t necessary for this.”

As soon as cool fingertips graze his throat, Hinata shivers. He screws his eyes shut – he can’t help it – while Tobio prods softly at… whatever in his neck.

“Are you cold?”

“N-no,” Hinata says quietly. He hates the fact he knows the doctor can feel the thick swallow beneath his gentle hands.

And when they finally pull away, Hinata releases the breath he’d been holding and cracks his eyes.

Tobio is looking at him funny, scowling almost, if Hinata didn’t know any better, but he unloops the stethoscope from around his neck and places a hand on Hinata’s shoulder. “Breathe normally,” he says, pressing the thingy to Hinata’s back.

Hinata forgets how to do that.

But it doesn’t seem to matter, because Tobio just segues into asking him to take a few deep breaths; the way his exhales shudder out of him makes his already hot face feel like it’s on fire, and he would like very much to casually drop dead.

“Alright,” Tobio mumbles, replacing the stethoscope around his neck, “lie back.”

Hinata wets his lips and swallows, slowly reclining.

Once on his back, he stares up at the ceiling, absolutely mortified. And really, he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, or why he’s suddenly so hypersensitive. Yeah… Dr. Grumpy is hot as hell… and yeah… it’s been a while since he’s gotten laid… or, well, since he’s even been  _touched_  by anyone.

But fuck, it isn’t like he’s some hormonal teenager anymore, those days have long since passed, and it’s not like he’s not around attractive people all the time (not  _this_  attractive, but still) he’s a fucking professional athlete!  _Everyone_ in his life is hotter than average – they are pretty much  _required_  to be…

But  _STILL—_

Hinata stiffens, pulling in a sharp breath when Tobio rucks his shirt up, but then—

“ _Ah!”_

He yelps at the first press of fingers firm against his stomach.

Again, Tobio stills.

Mortified doesn’t come close to it anymore.

But when Hinata dares slide his eyes over to the doctor, he’s met again with that little quirk of a smile.

“Ticklish?”

Hinata claps his hands over his eyes and lets loose an audible whimper of embarrassment. 

“No,” he eventually grinds out. He keeps his hands firmly in place while Tobio finishes whatever it is he’s doing. It shouldn’t feel good – it  _doesn’t_  feel good, but, fuck, it  _does_  feel good.

It feels  _so_  good.

He silently mourns the loss when Tobio pulls away.

“So,” Dr. Kageyama says as Hinata sits up – his whole body feels hot, tingly with embarrassment and… a few other things. He chews nervously on his lip, watching the way those hands slip the chart out of the slot again, the way long fingers grip the pen while they scrawl some note, and the way ocean-blue eyes flit around the page. But then they’re looking at him again, a brow above quirking expectantly.

“What?” Hinata asks, shaking his head quickly.

“I asked you how often you’ve been urinating.”

“Oh um…” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, eyes pulling to the ceiling. “Like ten times a day? Maybe?”

“Mmhm,” Tobio replies, tossing the chart onto the counter, leaning back onto it and crossing his arms.

For some reason, this makes Hinata bristle.

 _Am I bothering you?_  He wants to ask, but doesn’t.

“What color is it?”

“What!?” Hinata squawks.

Tobio sighs, uncrosses his arms and rubs his hands down his face in a display of clear exasperation.

“The color, dumbass.”

The casual insult hits Hinata like a brick to the stomach; his mouth falls open, a noise or something rattling around in his throat before he finds his voice.

“Excuse me!?”

“When you  _pee_ ,” the doctor speaks slowly, patronizing, “what  _color_  comes out?”

Hinata is absolutely aghast. He blinks dumbly, silent for what seems like several minutes.

“I don’t know!” He finally cries, throwing his hands up. “Pee color!? Yellow? Sometimes!?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Dr. Dickface smirks. “Do you drink a lot of water?”

“Of course I do!” Hinata balls his fists atop his thighs, seething. “I play volleyball for eight hours a day, I  _have_  to or else I’ll die!”

And Tobio jerks, immediately standing up a little straighter – his eyes widening.  “You play—o-oh. I… I see,” he says, looking away and rubbing at his chin in contemplation. He flicks his eyes back up, and they suddenly seem a bit softer. But his gaze pulls away quickly and he reaches back for his chart, flipping it open before scanning the sheet. “And you’re…”

Hinata watches angrily as Tobio’s eyes widen even further.

“…you’re twenty-seven? Seriously?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re…” Tobio blinks at Hinata, face blank when he tosses the chart back onto the desk, “short.”

“And you’re a dick!” Hinata snaps back. He’s wondering why he’s still sitting on the table. He doesn’t need this shit! This isn’t how doctors are supposed to behave towards their patients!

But to Hinata’s immense surprise, Tobio dissolves into the first genuine smile he’s seen from the man, and Hinata literally jolts backwards, placing his hand over his chest, and when the doctor breathes out a laugh, Hinata’s stomach flips over. But then he shakes himself, forcing a scowl before jumping off the table.

“If you’re just going to insult me, then I’ll gladly take my pee-business elsewhere—“

“Okay okay, I’m sorry,” Tobio says with a wave of a perfect hand. “It’s just that not many people of your… stature play volleyball.”

Hinata pauses. “Wait,” he says, “do you play volleyball, too?”

The doctor nods, he looks off to the side fondly. “I played all throughout college. I still play a bit when I can, but… you know,” he gestures vaguely around the room. “Work.”

“Oh,” Hinata says, the anger slowly receding. He doesn’t really know what else to say.

“Anyway,” Tobio waves a hand again. “You’re probably just overhydrating, but just to be sure,” he turns, then, snagging two gloves from the box beside him, “I’m going to check your prostate.”

It takes Hinata a moment to understand what was just said; he watches Tobio slip on the gloves.

“You’re… you’re what now?”

“Prostate exam,” Tobio replies, turning back towards him.

“I uh… wait—“ Hinata’s heart leaps up into his throat, his pulse skyrocketing. “A-are you sure that’s necessary?” He asks, backing into the table.

But Tobio just shrugs, oblivious to Hinata’s distress as he slides open a drawer beneath the counter. “Pretty standard procedure for the symptoms you’re describing.”

Hinata’s mouth feels dry; his breath starts to quicken as he watches the hottest man in the world uncap a fucking bottle of lube.

“H-hold on a second,” Hinata rasps, “I’ve—I mean—“

“It will only take a second, and it’s not as bad as most people think,” Tobio explains, drizzling thick, clear liquid over his gloved fingers… his long, strong, perfectly proportioned—

“That’s not! Ah—um!” Hinata stammers, desperately looking for some kind of escape – some trap door or magic curtain or hole—

_Oh god no, not a hole._

“Settle down, dumbass, it’s not going to hurt—“

“I know it’s not going to hurt! That’s the—why do you keep calling me that!” Hinata stomps his foot while Tobio rolls his fingers together, presumably warming the lube.

Hinata tries really fucking hard not to appreciate the consideration.

“Just trying to lighten the mood,” the man says with a smirk. “I need you to drop your pants and bend over the table.”

_This isn’t happening. There’s no way this is happening._

But somehow, shaking fingers fumble at the button of his shorts anyway, and Hinata finds himself willingly turning around, red-faced and trembling as he lowers his shorts… then his underwear.

He’s breathing heavily when he drops his head onto his forearms, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable and he can feel the other man move up behind him—

“Move forward a little,” Tobio says quietly, placing his un-lubed hand at the base of Hinata’s back. The pressure of it makes his breath jar, and Hinata obeys, slowly sliding forward and whining out a pitiful little sound.

“You’re okay,” the doctor says. Oh, cool,  _now_  his bedside manner kicks in. Hinata nods the best he can, wrapping his head up in his arms and groaning.

“Now—“ Tobio draws his hand back to Hinata’s hip, and Hinata can’t manage to suppress the shudder. But then the warmth of the hand is gone – it’s oddly sudden. And Tobio doesn’t say anything else for a long moment.

 _Oh god, what?_  Hinata thinks.

“Oh god, what?” He mumbles into the table.

“Um…” Tobio clears his throat, “what position do you play?”

Hinata’s head shoots up. “What!?”

“Volleyball,” Tobio says. “What position?”

Hinata drops his head back down. Is it possible to mentally conjure an aneurysm?

“Middle blocker,” he grumbles.

“Ah,” the doctor says softly, “makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Hinata rolls his head to the side to speak at something other than the sweat-damp bench paper beneath him.

“You… look like you do a lot of jumping.” Hinata can hear the smile in the doctor’s thick, quiet, rumbling voice. And suddenly there’s a hand on his hip again. “I need you to move forward just a little more—okay, that’s it, now—“

 _“NNgh!”_ A throaty, gasp of a noise shakes out of him when his hardening cock grazes against the cool table, his whole body twitching beneath Tobio’s palm.

“Are you okay?”

Hinata claps his hands hard over his mouth, his shuddering chest pressed hard against the table, shaking him with every gasp of breath. He nods frantically.

“Are you sure?” Tobio’s voice seems so dangerously close to him, his hand solid and comforting at his hip.

Hinata draws in a shaky breath and nods again, eyes screwing shut.

“Okay,” that deep voice breathes, “just cock your hips for me—“

“Wait! Wait, stop!” Hinata pleads, unable to take it anymore. “Just wait!”

“Now what?”

“I… I uh…” Hinata’s brain whirls around every possible excuse, “I have to go to the bathroom!”

“You have to pee?“

“N-no! I uh… the other one!”

“Oh,” Tobio says, pulling away completely. “Alright.”

Hinata breathes the biggest sigh of relief when he hears the gloves snapping off. He bends down and tugs his pants back up inhumanly fast while the doctor is busy tossing his gloves in the waste bin. He pulls his t-shirt down as far as possible in the front when Tobio turns back around.

“Third door on your right,” he says, pointing, a small smirk curling slowly onto his lips.

Hinata throws open the door and runs past him with a mumbled thank you, right past the bathroom and through the door of the reception area. Once the door clicks behind him he leans his hands down on his knees, gasping raggedly for breath. Ge grabs at his racing heart.

 _What the fuck_ , he thinks,  _what the actual fuck._

“Can I…”

His head shoots up at the hesitant voice. And he realizes he’s in a room full of people – patients still waiting to see their doctors.

“Can I help you?” The voice peeps again, and he whips around to see the cute nurse from before seated at the reception desk

He hunches his shoulders, doing his best to avoid the scrutiny of his fellow patients as he approaches the window.

“I um…” he says quietly, avoiding the girl’s kind, worried eyes, “I would like to request another doctor.”

“Oh! Um, alright… is everything…”

“Is there a… a female doctor I could see?”

The nurse blinks. “She’s… yes, but she’s on vacation… I can make an appointment for next week?”

“Yes… yes please,” Hinata looks at his feet.

He jumps a little when the girl leans up into the window, voice hushed,

“I know Dr. Kageyama can be a little scary, but really he’s—“

“He’s an  _asshole_ ,” Hinata hisses through his teeth, cheeks hot.

And surprisingly, the nurse sits back in her chair, blatantly hiding a smile behind her hand. “Okay sir,” she says, looking back at her computer and click-clacking at the keys. “I’m putting you in with Dr. Kiyoko next week. Same time?”

Hinata nods sheepishly.

He snatches his appointment card and makes to high-tail it out of the office…

Until he hears a sharp throat-clear from behind him. He freezes, blood ice-cold as he turns.

And there is Dr. Kageyama, leaned against the doorway, coat gone, with his arms crossed over his solid chest. His lips quirk up at the side and he twiddles the fingers of one hand in Hinata’s direction.

Hinata squeaks like a baby animal, and then he turns on his heel and flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS! Hi. Hello. So, the glorious[ @omegas-m](https://omegas-m.tumblr.com/) made the most [lovely art for this chapter :DD please PLEASE go check it out!!](https://omegas-m.tumblr.com/post/167714711301/little-sketchs-for-this-amazing-fic-written-by)
> 
> AND the amazing [@noyaboya](https://noyaboya.tumblr.com/) drew [Doctor Kageyama!!!](https://noyaboya-draws.tumblr.com/post/168054824940/so-majesticartax-killed-me-with-her-au-and-now) HE LOOKS SO GOOD!!


	2. Chapter 2

Hinata never knew scathing embarrassment could fucking  _follow_  so closely. He didn’t even do anything wrong! It’s stupid unprofessional Dr. Fingerfuck who should be embarrassed, for being all… unprofessional and shit!

Hinata sighs, closing his eyes against the intrusive blue glare of his alarm clock in his otherwise dark bedroom (he  _hates_  blue. He’s buying a new clock tomorrow) and burrowing beneath his pillow.

He should just cancel his appointment tomorrow. Tobio… no,  _Dr. Kageyama_  (fuck that, he’s not calling him by his first name) even said that he’s probably just over-hydrating. Speaking of which…

Heaving another dramatic sigh, Hinata crawls his way from beneath the covers and trudges into the bathroom, fumbling for his glass by the sink in the dark and running himself a drink of water from the tap.

_Stupid Tobio._

He stands there gulping his water spitefully and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

He’s greeted by the obnoxious vibrating of his cellphone when he stumbles back to bed, rattling away on his nightstand, so rudely disrupting all his nighttime sulking.

But he answers the thing anyway.

“Noya,” he grumbles, knuckling at his eyes. “What’s up.”

“Were you sleeping!?” Nishinoya demands way too loudly. Hinata winces, tugging the phone away from his face.

“Not exactly,” he replies with a frown, placing the phone back up to his ear. He tilts his face towards his clock – 9:41. He can’t even be mad about it being too late.

“Okay good. You should meet us out.”

Hinata sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “Who’s  _us_?”

“Me, Tanaka, Yaku, Lev, Kuroo, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi—“

“Oh, so everyone ever.”

“Hardly,” Noya answers with a sniff. “Bring Kenma, too.”

Hinata breathes a laugh, snapping on the lamp beside his bed. “He’s not going to come.”

“Right, still, you should ask.”

“I didn’t even agree to come yet, you know.”

“Yeah, but you will.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes I do.”

Hinata sighs. “Okay, fine. But I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning so I’m not staying out late.”

“What are you, eighty? Want me to pick you up?”

“No, I’ll drive.”

“Mkay, we’re meeting at the place near Lev’s.”

“Sounds good,” Hinata lies, wrenching open his closet door. “See you soon.”

_Fuck._

* * *

On a scale from  _one_ to  _drunk_ , Hinata is… well…

He isn’t  _wasted_ ; but with Tanaka feeding him shots, that’s probably about to change.

“Yakuu~” Hinata sings, wobbling up to the short man and slinging an arm over his shoulders, slipping down heavily beside him in the booth. “Happy birthday! I’m sorry Noya didn’t remind me, I would have picked something up for you! Some… mmmm,” Hinata flops the upper part of his body down onto the table, flapping a hand in the air while he thinks, “pizza.”

Yaku snorts into his drink. “You would have brought me pizza?”

“Hm? Oh no,” Hinata sits up, swaying. “I just want pizza. But!” The little redhead springs up, crashing into Lev as he comes up to the table. The taller man grabs his shoulders, laughing and stabilizing him. “Drinks!” Hinata announces, now steady on his feet. “Let me buy you a drink! A birthday—“

“Why are you yelling?” Kuroo asks with a cool smirk from the other side of the booth.

“Because birthday drinks are serious business!” Hinata barks back, fists on his hips. “Yaku, what do you want?”

“Um,” the other man says, looking down at his relatively full glass, “I don’t think I—“

“He needs a shot!” Tanaka cheers, tilting his bottle of beer towards the ceiling.

“Will you cool it on the shots!?” Yaku cries. “None of us are going home with you!”

Tanaka places a hand over his heart and scoffs. “How dare you suggest I have anything aside from the purest of intentions!”

“We’re not all into dick, Yaku,” Nishinoya rolls his eyes hard.

“That too,” Tanaka agrees, tipping his beer to his lips. “Although with a couple more, I’m sure I’ll be willing to negotiate.”

“That’s something I would pay to see,” Kuroo says.

“Mm?” Tanaka turns, walking his fingers up his leg, “how much?”

“Okay, but, like, if you  _had_  to,” Yamaguchi asks, leaning onto the table, “which of us would it be?”

Tanaka takes a contemplative sip, eyes raised to the ceiling. “Well,” he starts, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “are we talking, like, gun to my head? Is there panic involved?”

“Mm,” Hinata thinks, “no… more like… uhhh… wait, why would that matter?”

“I need to get in the right frame of mind, obviously.”

“Okay,” Hinata says, bending forward and resting his elbows on the table in a display of intense interest, “who’s your panic fuck?”

“Yuu,” Tanaka says without hesitation.

Nishinoya feigns a bashful giggle.

“Didn’t we know that already?” Kuroo asks.

“Who’s on top?” Hinata straightens up.

“That’s our secret,” Nishinoya drawls, climbing into Tanaka’s lap.

Hinata rolls his eyes. “What’s everyone want? I’m going up.”

“I’ll take another,” Tanaka says.

“Me too,” says Lev.

“Last call~” Hinata lilts, sweeping his eyes over the rest of the men. With no other orders, he turns and weaves his way through the busy bar, stumbling a little more than he would have thought.

Did he eat recently? He must have.

He politely elbows his way to the bar, leaning up onto it and waiting patiently for service.

He lets his eyes lazily wander down the row of people, mindlessly passing over every uninteresting, unfamiliar face.

Until suddenly they are not so uninteresting – and  _oh so_  not unfamiliar.

Hinata squeaks, ducking down beneath the bar when cool blue eyes slide over his way from several seats away. But he seems to remain unnoticed, so he peeks pack out, watching Dr. Kageyama stir some ice around in his glass before tipping the liquid to his mouth.

The girl seated beside Hinata gives him a funny look, and Hinata just glares back until she turns around.

Hinata watches the doctor covertly, licking his lips anxiously as he spies. He wonders if the attractive man is there with someone…

Not for any reason, or anything, just… Hinata is a little curious about the kind of person he goes for.

For…  _curiosity_  reasons, that’s all.

But the more he watches, the more it becomes glaringly apparent that Dr. Kageyama is alone; although he was approached by a woman – tall, brunette – but he barely looked at her before rudely waving her off.

_Interesting._

Wait, no! That’s not interesting! The guy is an unprofessional douchebag, why the hell is Hinata even looking at him!?

The redhead bristles, narrowing his eyes.

Hinata doesn’t deserve all these… these…  _feelings!_  How  _dare_  he make  _the_  Hinata Shouyou feel like some kind of bashful, blushing virgin. He doesn’t have that power! No one has that power! Why, if he—

“Sir?”

“ _Ah!”_ Hinata startles. “Um, yes?” He blinks innocently at the bartender.

“Can I get you something?”

“No,” he replies with a sniff, stepping away from the bar and balling his fists at his sides. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the—

Okay, no, it’s definitely the alcohol that makes Hinata stomp his way down to the corner of the bar, jab Dr. Assface in the shoulder and declare,

“YOU!”

The doctor wheels around, blue eyes wild and wide, lips parted in surprise. But when his startled gaze lands on the fuming redhead, his face relaxes, dropping into a bored smile.

And suddenly Hinata is regretting his life choices; he feels exposed, vulnerable and helpless beneath that stare.

“Oh,” Dr. Kageyama says, snagging his drink from behind him and sipping it casually as he looks at a wobbly, swaying Hinata, “it’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s-me!” Hinata says, voice slurring embarrassingly. He cringes at himself, watching the doctor smugly take another sip. “Are you drinking  _milk_?” Hinata bites, offended.

Dr. Kageyama pauses, moving the glass from his face and looking down into it. “Um,” he says, “I guess it’s one of the ingredients so technically—“

“You  _would_!” Hinata accuses.

“Um…” the doctor blinks, “excuse me?”

“I’ll have you know,” Hinata says, taking one staggering step forward, “that you’re the  _worst._ ”

Dr. Kageyama’s eyes narrow. “What?”

“Yeah! You… you heard me!”

“How could I not?” Kageyama growls lowly. “You’re yelling.”

“And  _you’re_ the worst,” Hinata cries. Again. He sways where he stands, his hand shooting out to grip a nearby chair to steady himself.

And then he watches Kageyama’s eyes soften – sort of. It registers in his drunk brain, but acting accordingly is proving difficult.

“Yeah, so you say.” Kageyama takes one last sip of his drink before setting it back on the bar, turning to give the tipsy man his full attention. “Why am I the worst?” He asks.

Hinata feels attacked. “Obviously because… b-because—“ he hiccups. He starts to drunkenly panic, eyes shifting around the bar. He bails on his accusation and throws out another one:

“Are you here by yourself?”

“I… ah, yes,” the doctor says, clearing his throat, breaking eye contact.

“Yeah. It’s because you’re the worst,” Hinata says smugly, folding his arms over his chest. “Who would want to be here with you.”

“Um… right.” The other man shifts his gaze off to the side a little more, smoothing his hands down his thighs.

Hinata watches the anxious gesture with interested eyes, but he feels a little zap of triumph run through him, though buried beneath the current is something more…

No, fuck that. Hinata doesn’t  _feel bad_  or anything. He won.

“That’s what I thought,” Hinata sniffs. “Now, excuse me,  _doctor._ ”

Hinata turns, stumbling once on his way back to a gap in bodies at the bar.

He orders their drinks, slamming back a shot for himself before ordering another, carrying the rest of the drinks back to the table without a second glance back at Tobio.

* * *

Hinata trips back into consciousness in and out during the night; right now, he’s sprawled out over the table with Lev, cackling about something he can’t even remember.

“Hinataaaa,” Yaku whines, “get off my boyfriend~”

“Lev… Lev Lev Lev,” Nishinoya taps the man on the head, “do you… do you think—“ he dissolves into a fit of giggles. “—in a dark room do you think that you could tell the difference between Shouyou and—“

“Shhhh,” Yaku hisses, jamming his finger against Noya’s lips, “don’t finish that thought!”

“How could he not!?” Kuroo says, smacking Hinata hard on the ass. Hinata shrieks.

“Hey! I have an ass!” Yaku pouts, hopping up and turning around, hands on his hips to put it on display. “See!?”

“Mmhm,” Lev says, reaching over Hinata to grab a handful of his boyfriend. “Okay, now you,” he says casually to Hinata, “I have to compare. For science.”

Hinata squawks and rolls gracelessly off the table, wind-milling his arms when his feet hit the floor. “You guys can’t jus’ go groping my butt like that, you guys. ‘s dangerous,” he says dreamily, slapping a hand to Kuroo’s big shoulder. He squeezes the man’s bicep under his hand and bites his lip theatrically.

“Yeah, Hinata hasn’t gotten laid in two years,” Tanaka stage whispers, wincing when Hinata goes to clumsily punch him in the stomach. “He’ll come in his pants if you keep it up.”

“It hasn’t been  _that…_ ” the sexually frustrated man trails off, counting on his fingers, “…long,” he finishes with a grumble.

Hinata half-listens to the other guys launch into the last times they all fucked and blah blah blah must be nice. He blinks lazily as he strolls his eyes around the bar; somewhere in the back of his mind he remembers that he has something important to do tomorrow… something…

Eh, fuck it.

The room is still packed, and yet he still manages to find that familiar figure leaned back against the bar.

Watching him; that dumb drink still in his hand.

Hinata’s heart leaps into his throat.

His very… drunk… needy… throat—

Hinata realizes he’s moving towards the doctor when he’s already halfway into his journey.

And then he’s standing in front of the doctor, teetering.

“Hello again,” Tobio says, his face blank. “Your friends seem charming.”

“Shut up,” Hinata replies with a drunken scowl. His eyes can’t quite focus, but Dr. Kageyama is no less gorgeous. “You—“

“Listen,” Dr. Kageyama says, rolling his glass in his hands, dark eyes lowered. “I might have behaved a little… unprofessionally last week.”

Hinata wants to climb him like a tree.

“I was… um, preoccupied with some stuff and,” Tobio rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, “I shouldn’t have been so…” he waves vaguely with his hand. Then he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Hinata blinks.

“And if you weren’t so  _clearly_  wasted, I would offer to buy you a drink. Just to… make up for it.”

Hinata bristles. “I am not  _was’ed_ ,” he jabs his finger in the doctor’s face, “I’m… hey. Hey, let me as’ you something,” Hinata slurs, stepping closer, “you’re just… how would—doctors are s’posed to be old and—and  _nice,_ not,” Hinata gestures to Tobio with both hands, “hot assholes who—“ Hinata huffs angrily, “how would you feel if some gorgeous—tried to stick his hand—“ Hinata licks his lips, his eyes falling to where Dr. Kageyama’s fingers trace around the rim of his glass.

He arches a brow.

“What,” Hinata snaps defensively.

“Tell you what,” Dr. Kageyama says, slipping a pen out of his pocket and clicking it open. Hinata pulls in a sharp breath complete with a gurgle when long fingers close firmly around his wrist. “Here’s my personal number. If you can remember this by tomorrow,” the man says, pressing the pen to Hinata’s forearm, writing quickly, “call me. I’ll buy you dinner as an apology. But you won’t,” he adds with a smile and a lick to his lips. “Remember, I mean.”

“You can’t buy me!” Hinata cries, wrenching his arm away as if burned and holding it close to his body in defense. “You think you’re all fancy with your… your  _milk_  and your…  _doctor_ money—“

“Aren’t you a professional athlete?”

“What of it!?”

Kageyama just blinks at him.

“I think that you should… you shouldn’t be writing on people in bars and—and trying to stick your fingers in their—when you look like—guh! Go fuck yourself!” Hinata cries. He whirls around and flees Dr. Kageyama’s vicinity for the second time that evening – third time in his sad pathetic life.

“Tanaka!” Hinata returns to the table, slamming his hands down hard on the wood. “Shots!” 

* * *

Hinata wakes slowly to a roaring, pounding fucking headache; one of the least favorable ways to greet an early morning. Without cracking his eyes, he wills himself back into a state of nonconsciousness just to escape the misery of one bitch of a powerful hangover.

But it’s not working. So he grumbles, untangling an arm from the sheets and smacking the bed beside him in frustration.

Only what he hits is very much not his mattress.

“Ow! What the fuck!”

Hinata’s eyes shoot open and he bolts upright into a room that isn’t his.

“Jesus, Shouyou, what the hell?”

Noya sits up beside him, rubbing both his chest and his eye.

And Hinata’s heart immediately starts to beat a little slower.

“Ah… sorry…” Hinata rubs his face with both hands, “ouch… fuck, why am I here? What happened last night?”

“Uh,” Nishinoya starts, side-eyeing the shit out of Hinata, “ _you_  happened. How much do you remember?”

Hinata sighs. “Very little,” he mumbles.

“You caused this huge scene with this guy and we had to drag you out of the bar. Then you started crying about something and you didn’t want to go home alone. So I brought you here. You know you live with Kenma, right?”

“Guy?” Hinata winces, squeezing his eyes shut against this news. And the light that feels like it’s piercing his skull. “Was he… tall,” he asks, cracking an eye and knowing the answer. “Black hair—holy—is that really the time!?”

Nishinoya turns, following Hinata’s line of sight. “Yeah.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna be late” He cries, leaping out of bed too quickly and sitting back on the mattress heavily, face in his hands. “Ow… my… I’m guessing my car isn’t here,” he says against his hands.

The other man snorts.

“Shit, I don’t,” Hinata jumps back up, “I don’t have time to go home. Can I use your shower?”

“Sure,” Nishinoya says with a yawn. “Borrow some clothes too. You want coffee?” He asks, sliding out of the bed.

“No I don’t have time,” Hinata says in a rush, whipping his shirt off over his head and running unsteadily to the bathroom. “Thanks,” he calls from down the hall. “I owe you!”

He listens to some mumbled response as he shut the bathroom door.

Most of the time spent in the shower is dedicated to a certain…  _area,_ giving what’s to soon occur over at the doctors office, but still he quickly washes his face and slips some soap beneath his arms before calling it a job well done.

* * *

He’s five minutes early to his appointment, so he gets to drop dramatically into the chair of the waiting room, letting his heart resume a normal rhythm and cradling his pounding head in his hands.

“Hinata Shouyou?” A cheery voice calls. Hinata raises his head to see the same cute nurse from last week, smiling at him happily. He smiles in return and follows her back to the exam room.

“It’s nice to see you again,” the nurse says, taking his pulse on his wrist.

“You too,” Hinata replies kindly.

They make pleasant small talk through the rest of his routine vital checks and she leaves, letting Hinata know that Dr. Kiyoko will be in shortly.

And so he’s left again in the Blue Room, anxiously swinging his feet where he sits on the exam table.

He knows it’s silly to be worried. It’s not like Dr. Kageyama is going to burst in here for no good reason. And yeah, even though Hinata was painfully rude last night, leaving things probably worse between them than they had been, the doctor wouldn’t confront him about it, right?

Doctors don’t just bust in on other doctors’ patients, right?

Even after said patient allegedly caused some scene that he can’t remember… right?

_Right!?_

Hinata hangs his head, grumbling wordlessly into his hands.

And when there’s a knock at the door, his heart kicks into overdrive.

“Um…” Hinata looks around, eyes wild and panicked. Flashbacks. “Come in?”

There’s a short pause before the knob turns. And then the door cracks. Hinata holds his breath and,

“Hi,” a light, airy voice says, “I’m Dr. Kiyoko.”

Hinata breathes out in rushed relief. But then he smiles. “Hi! It’s nice to meet you!”

But while the new, friendly doctor runs through the routine battery of poking and prodding, Hinata can’t help but feel just a little…

No, no he’s definitely not disappointed.

 _Definitely not_.

But the actual exam goes entirely without incident; the uh,  _procedure_  was nothing short of blessedly, moderately uncomfortable, and the doctor was nice and gentle and distracting during.

“Okay, that’s all!” She says, snapping off her gloves and tossing them into the bin. “You can get dressed.”

“So what’s up?” Hinata asks, tugging his underwear back up over his hips and turning back around. “Am I dying?”

Dr. Kiyoko laughs and opens Hinata’s chart. “Your prostate is fine,” she says, scrawling a note, “so I’m just recommending that you cut back on the sugary sports drinks. Replace them with water.”

Hinata agrees to heed her advice, and he sits there quietly while she finishes up with his chart, zoning out a bit and tragically recalling just how hungover he truly is.

“I didn’t realize you knew Dr. Kageyama.”

Hinata’s head whips around painfully fast. “What!?”

“I didn’t know you two were friends,” she says, smiling at him. “I know sometimes it’s hard to be seen professionally by someone you know, so now it makes sense—”

“Wait… um, hold on,” Hinata croaks, waving his hands in front of his face, “what—why… what makes you think that?”

He’s met with a look of confusion. But then Dr. Kiyoko nods, gesturing to Hinata himself.

“His new cell number,” she explains vaguely, brow furrowed, “it’s written on your arm.”

Hinata balks, eyes flying wide. “W-what!”

But he looks down, and written in smudgy black ink is—

Hinata chokes on his own spit. “T-that’s—when did—w-what—how do you know that’s his?”

The doctor regards him warily, clicking her pen closed.

And suddenly Hinata is hit with the ghost of some memory from last night. A rattily noise clacks around in his throat, his eyes darting over the black numbers.

“He just gave me his new number yesterday,” she explains. “I recognized it. Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah!” He lies, laughing awkwardly. “I’m good! Great, even!”

The doctor nods slowly. “Alright, well. It was a pleasuring meeting you. You can make a follow up appointment for two months, okay?”

Hinata rips his gaze up from his arm and nods quickly, forcing a smile and hopping down from the table.

His walk to the train station is filled with lots of groaning, face palming, and staring distractedly down at his arm as images of last night come flashing back.

But still, he can’t remember  _why_  this stupid number is scrawled on his skin.

And so sitting on the train, slumped against the window in hungover defeat, Hinata decides that, after a very long, well-deserved nap, he’s going to call Dr. Kageyama Tobio and demand some answers.

Or maybe he’ll get Kenma to do it.

Either way, he’s getting his answers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the crazy lovely @ksotastic over on tumblr :D

Hinata isn’t pacing. No, no he’s just walking. Just casually walking back and forth in his kitchen, taking a nice evening stroll with his thumbnail caught between his teeth, eyes jumping to the clock and away again every three seconds or so.

He can still call to cancel. He can still get out of this. All he has to do is wrestle his phone away from Kenma, who fucking stole it in the first place when he suggested bailing on his date.

Wait wait wait no, no this isn’t a fucking date. KENMA is the one who called it that, not Hinata. Hinata knows damn well that this isn’t a date but that word burrowed into his unconscious anyway.

He’s kicking Kenma out tomorrow.

When Hinata barged into Kenma’s bedroom to beg him to call Dr. Kageyama to figure out why the hell his phone number is scribbled all over him like he’s some gas station bathroom, Kenma asked him to please knock next time and to repeat what he just said because he didn’t catch a word of it.

Hinata sighed. And repeated himself, slower.

Kenma had begrudgingly agreed, but the moment Dr. Kageyama’s deep voice came over the line, Kenma tossed Hinata’s cell phone back at him. There was some frantic juggling and a high-pitched squeal before Hinata managed to jam his finger against the  _end call_  button.

Obviously Dr. Kageyama called back immediately.

 _“Someone called from this number?”_ Kageyama’s voice floated rich and smooth and painfully irritated over the line.

 _“Ah—_ “ Hinata squeaked, wide, panicked eyes pleading at Kenma. Kenma made a shooing motion from his bed before turning his attention back to his own cellphone. Hinata swallowed his heart.  _“H-hi. Hi. Hello,”_  he said, voice raspy and pathetic.  _“Hi… T—Dr. Kageyama._  This is—“

 _“Oh,”_  the doctor cleared his throat.  _“You. So you remembered.”_

Hinata had absolutely no idea what that meant. Which is why he said,

_“Uh. Remembered what?”_

It was a long while before Dr. Kageyama spoke again.

And once Hinata finally explained how he knew it was Dr. Kageyama’s number without having the memory of him writing it on him, the doctor called him a dumbass and then invited him (again, apparently) to dinner to apologize for his behavior.

Which is why Hinata is now in the state he’s in –  _not_ pacing,  _just_  walking back and forth in his kitchen the next evening.

At a quarter to six he stomps his foot and huffs angrily.

“Can I have my phone back now?” He yells to the other room. “It’s too late to cancel now!”

“No it’s not,” a bored voice calls back.

“I could just not get on the train, you know,” Hinata collapses dramatically into a kitchen chair and wraps his head up in his arms.

“True. Wait, you still haven’t gotten your car?”

Hinata just whines.

“You haven’t been on a date in like three years,” Kenma mutters, wandering into the kitchen and staring at his phone. “The guy liked you enough to give you his number even though you violently accosted him.”

“What!?” Hinata snaps his head up.

“I talked to Kuroo.”

“This is so humiliating,” Hinata wails, sliding down out of his chair to lie face down on the floor. “You have no idea what he looks like. He’s all tall and dark and a huge asshole and… when’s the last time I swept?”

Kenma shrugs.

“Oh, well,” Hinata springs up and makes to dash from the kitchen, “looks like I’m dirty, I better go shower—“

Kenma snags him by the back of the collar before he gets away, yanking him back into the kitchen.

“He sounds like your type, so I don’t get what your problem is,” Kenma says, releasing Hinata and fishing the other man’s cellphone out of his pocket.

“Yeah,” Hinata says, licking his lips and perking up at the sight of his phone. “That  _is_ kind of the problem. He’s a little  _too_ … he makes me all squirmy and sweaty and my mouth goes all dry—“

“Love at first sight, how romantic,” Kenma rolls his eyes, tossing Hinata his phone and peeling away and stepping back down the hall. “Go. Please. Or you’re going to die alone.”

Hinata scowls down at his phone. But he shoves it into his pocket. “He doesn’t  _like_  me,” Hinata yells miserably. “He just wants to clear his stupid doctor conscience. You know, that whole  _do no harm_  thing.”

“That’s not what that means.”

“Yeah, but—“

“ _LEAVE, SHOUYOU!”_

And Hinata does, with a ridiculous amount of hemming and hawing and he forgets his keys twice, but Kenma bolts the door and Hinata has little choice but to take that long train ride to his doom.

* * *

The restaurant is nice, but it’s not _nice_  – definitely not  _date_  nice. Not that Hinata would really know what  _date nice_  is supposed to look like, but he doesn’t feel out of place when he steps through the door.

Although the tables already have wine glasses on them… and white table clothes… and black stools at the hip, busy bar, and white sticks in the vases instead of flowers okay yeah he feels really out of place—

“Good evening!”

Hinata jumps.

“Welcome! Do you have a reservation?”

“Ah, um,” Hinata blinks at the  _maître d’_ , “I-I’m meeting someone here?”

“Oh! You’re Hinata Shouyou, I presume?”

Hinata scrunches his face. “Yes?”

“Then right this way, sir.”

The  _maître d’_  leads a fidgety Hinata through the crowded dining room, all the while glancing back to make some comment about the weather or something, as if he knows Hinata is thinking about escaping.

But he changes his mind completely when his eyes fall on Dr. Kageyama already seated at their table, handing a drink menu back to the waiter.

Hinata feels the walls rush in when their eyes meet.

He immediately starts sweating.

“I ordered us a bottle of wine,” Dr. Kageyama tells him without saying hello as Hinata takes his seat. “Do you like wine.”

It’s not exactly a question.

“Y-yeah,” Hinata stammers. “Yes.”

“I thought maybe you only liked doing shots out of your friends’ mouths.”

Hinata curls his lip. “What!?”

“Hi,” Kageyama says with that smirk.

“Oh,” Hinata replies, glancing away with too much heat in his face. “Hi.”

“Thanks for coming,” the doctor says as he leans back in his chair. Hinata peeks back over to watch the way the other man’s light blue dress shirt shifts over his chest and abdomen when he moves, sleeves shoved stylishly up to his elbows and long fingers drumming absently on the table. He’s not looking at Hinata while he thanks him; his sharp blue eyes wander around the dining room instead.

And that’s fine. He doesn’t want to be caught staring.

Hinata chews his lip before asking,

“How did they know who I was?”

“I obviously described you,” Kageyama says, eyes sliding back to Hinata’s. “Stupid.”

Hinata pulls a face, straightening up. “I thought you wanted to apologize to me!”

“I do.” Kageyama blinks vacantly.

“So you just insult me more?”

“When?”

“Literally just now!”

“I did not.”

“Did so!”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Kageyama says with a scowl, opening his menu. “What do you want to eat?”

Hinata narrows his eyes, confused by the aching arousal pulsing through him alongside the agitation. He huffs, flipping his menu open.

This was such a bad idea. He should leave, and leave  _now_. But… he’s hungry.

And dammit. Why has he let himself go so long without getting fucked? It’s messing with his head.

The doctor probably isn’t even all that attractive.

Hinata flicks his eyes up and Dr. Kageyama is staring at him over his menu. Hinata hunches down, burying his face into his own.

He’s definitely  _very_  attractive.

“I don’t know yet, idiot,” Hinata says to the pages.

He chews on the inside of his cheek, eyes flitting over the food items but not actually reading them. Maybe the waiter can leave the menu so Hinata can hide behind it all night.

“So,” Kageyama says, setting his own menu aside. “I’m kind of surprised you showed up.”

“Yeah, me too,” Hinata mumbles. But then he straightens up, setting his menu down. “Wait, why?”

“With all the yelling you did at the bar… but I guess you don’t remember any of that, right?” Kageyama asks, fiddling with his silverware, eyes lowered.

Hinata wants to die. “I… no I don’t remember anything. I’m,” he swallows awkwardly, “I’m sorry. What… exactly did I say?”

But to Hinata’s surprise, the doctor dissolves into an easy smile. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Yeah but—”

“Didn’t your friends tell you about it?”

“No, they won’t tell me what happened,” Hinata admits with a pout.”

“Good friends,” Kageyama says, distracted by his silverware again. Hinata can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.

The waiter arrives with their wine and takes their dinner orders; Kageyama orders some pork thing and Hinata is fairly sure he ordered something with chicken, but he ordered in a rushed panic, so who knows.

The waiter leaves, and they sit in silence for the longest minute of Hinata’s life with Dr. Kageyama sipping his wine all cool and comfortable with the quiet.

Or so it seems.

“So you play volleyball!?” Hinata pretty much yells.

Startled blue eyes snap over to his. But then the doctor relaxes. “I do.”

“Oh,” Hinata replies, grabbing his wineglass and taking a long sip. “On a team or—”

“Listen,” the other man interrupts with a hard scowl, readjusting himself in his chair, “last week was… I didn’t mean to be so rude to you. That wasn’t professional and there really isn’t any excuse for it. I should have brought up the prostate exam a little more delicately, because I know how difficult that can be for some men so—”

“Wait,” Hinata interrupts, halting Dr. Kageyama with his hand, “ _that’s_ what you’re apologizing for?”

Dr. Kageyama blinks at him. “Yes.”

Hinata blinks back. “You’re serious.”

Dark brows furrow and the doctor licks his lips before he speaks. “Well, yes. You were clearly uncomfortable so—”

“That wasn’t!—” Hinata huffs, pressing his hands over his eyes. “Dr. Kageyama, that—”

“Just Kageyama is fine. Or Tobio. Whichever.”

“Look, Kageyama,” Hinata says, daring to make eye contact. “ _That_  wasn’t the problem.”

Kageyama raises a brow.

“Jesus,” Hinata throws his hands in the air before folding his arms across his chest. “Do you make it a habit of calling your patients names!?”

“I did what?”

“Oh my god,” Hinata pinches the bridge of nose. “You’re a piece of work.”

Kageyama bristles at this, lips parting in insult. “Hey! I’m trying to make amends here!” He finally says in an angry whisper. “And after assaulting me in some bar, you have some nerve whining about name calling!”

“I don’t even know what I did,” Hinata snaps, matching Kageyama’s hushed tone.

“Yeah, and who knows what  _else_  you would have done if your boyfriend hadn’t dragged you out of there.”

“I don’t have a  _boyfriend_  you ass.”

Something in Kageyama’s face rearranges – his eyes become just a bit wider. And then he backs off, shrinking back into his chair a bit and lowering his eyes to the table. “He looked like your boyfriend,” he mutters. “Sorry.”

Hinata cocks his head, the anger bleeding out of him. “Which one?”

“The only one shorter than you.”

Hinata rolls his eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Kageyama is silent again for several seconds, frowning at his wine glass.

And for the first time since meeting Dr. Kageyama, Hinata feels like he has the upper hand. Too bad he doesn’t know what to do with it. So he says,

“So you’re saying you take all the patients you make uncomfortable out to dinner?”

Kageyama’s frown deepens. “No.”

“Yeah,” Hinata snorts, “you’d go broke.”

“I just felt particularly bad about it, okay? And when I saw you at the bar… you didn’t have to agree to meet me, you know.”

“Of course I know that!”

“So if I’m such an awful person, why did you?”

There goes the upper hand.

“I-I don’t know,” Hinata stammers, “I guess I really felt like I deserved an apology.”

“And you did… you do,” Kageyama says quietly, raising his eyes to look Hinata in the face. “So I’m sorry. You just caught me at a bad time.”

Hinata watches Kageyama drink his wine and unfolds his arms to pick up his own glass. “What do you mean a bad time?”

Kageyama subtly shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “Never mind.”

“Did something happen?” Hinata presses.

Kageyama seems to zone out, his unfocused gaze trained on the edge of the table. “I guess you could say that,” he says finally, quietly. “But it’s no excuse for unprofessionalism.”

Hinata rolls his eyes. “Will you stop with the unprofessionalism thing? You’re allowed to be a person, you know.”

“Yeah, so I’m told. I’m working on it.”

“So what happened?”

Kageyama sighs deeply and leans his elbows onto the table, rubbing his face with his hands. He suddenly looks so tired. “It’s personal.”

“You’ve seen my butt,” Hinata reminds him with a blush, against what would normally be his better judgement.

“I have,” Kageyama says with a small smile. But then he sighs again. “I suppose you deserve an explanation.”

“I do,” Hinata agrees.

“My boyfriend was cheating on me,” Kageyama says casually. “I found out that morning.”

Hinata jerks back, eyes wide. “O-oh! I didn’t—oh my god! I’m… wow, that’s awful, I’m sorry!”

“Yeah… me too,” Kageyama mutters, killing his glass of wine.

Hinata flusters, eyes darting around the table. “I… I can’t imagine what that feels like, I mean, I can imagine it but… it’s not like I know from experience or anything I’ve never been cheated on I don’t think, I don’t really date so I guess it’s not something that could happen oh my god—“

“Why don’t you dial it back a bit.”

“Kageyama! I’m really sorry,” Hinata whispers anxiously. “Was it… were you together long?”

“Two years,” Kageyama says, jaw clenching.

Hinata is nodding. He doesn’t know why he’s nodding. He stops.

“It’s fine, though,” Kageyama says, refilling his wine glass and then topping off Hinata’s. “After I got over the initial shock it wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t the best relationship anyway.”

“Yeah but… I mean, who the hell would cheat on  _you_!?” Hinata blurts.

Kageyama sips his wine, completely unfazed. “The next couple days sort of sucked though. He kept calling me, I don’t even know why. Eventually I changed my number because I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”

Hinata is nodding again.

“I finally convinced him to give me my key back the other day,” the doctor says, shifting his eyes away. “At the bar.”

Hinata blinks. “Wait. You mean…“

Kageyama rolls his tongue in his cheek, brows flicking up. “Yeah”

“Oh my god,” Hinata buries his face in his hands.

“He left a couple minutes before…  _you_  happened. He brought the woman he was cheating with.”

“Oh my  _god_!” Hinata wails into his hands before slamming them on the table. “What kind of monster is he!? What Kind of monster am  _I_!?”

“You didn’t know,” Kageyama says.

“Yeah but I… I made fun of you for being alone!” Hinata can’t decide if he wants to run away or melt into the floor. So he just flops back into his chair and sinks down as far as possible, covering his face again.

“Ah, so you remember some of it.”

Hinata nods miserably. “I’m terrible.”

“Actually,” Kageyama says slowly, “somehow you made me feel better.”

Hinata peeks out from behind his fingers. “What?”

But Kageyama just shrugs.

“How is that even possible?”

“Well, you were quite clearly drunk,” Kageyama reminds him, “and it’s sort of hard not to feel better when someone is yelling about how attractive you are.”

Hinata covers his eyes again, grumbling wordlessly into his palms in mortified agony.

“It was cute.”

Hinata’s stomach flips and he finally lets his hands fall. His lips part in surprise as he lets those words sink in.

Did the doctor just tell him  _he_  was cute? Or did he mean the embarrassing antics were cute? Should he ask for clarification? He shouldn’t be so jazzed about the prospect of being called cute, right? But there  _is_ a difference, right!? Or is that weird? If he ran out of the room right now what’s the likelihood that he’ll ever see this man again? He can find a new doctor’s office, it wouldn’t be  _that_  hard—

“Ow!”

Hinata gets kicked under the table.

“What was that for!?”

“You appeared to be in distress.”

“So you kick me!?”

Kageyama shrugs.

“What kind of doctor are you!?”

“A hot one, according to you.”

Hinata falls forward, whimpering and thunking his head on the table.

And then Kageyama breathes out a laugh. It’s musical, really; and when Hinata picks up his head he sees a flush of amusement rising high in Kageyama’s cheeks, it’s downright fucking lovely. Hinata guesses it’s a rare sight.

This man is seriously beautiful.

His personality is terribly flawed, yes, but still… Hinata hates himself for how charming he finds it.

It just that every line of his body, every curve of visible skin slides seamlessly into the light fabric of his clothes; his throat follows down the line of his collar, the smooth skin dipping beneath the undone top button of his shirt, drawing Hinata’s eyes down to his chest. God, what he wouldn’t do to wrap his legs around that strong waist; he’d ride Kageyama so hard – so…  _fucking_  hard. He wants to make those blue eyes roll back, stretch his lips around his dick and feel the weight of it on his tongue. He wants strong fingers tugging at his hair or gripping desperately at his hips while he rolls them, working himself down over every inch of that dick he just  _knows_  would fill him up so completely it would sustain him for the rest of his life.

Wow, he  _really_  needs to settle down. Oh god, why does he have to know the touch of those hands already.  

He licks his lips.

But then something occurs to Hinata; this… is weird, right? This is… all of this is freaking  _weird—_

“Wait a minute,” Hinata snaps without a second thought, brow pinching and palms slapping to the table, “this isn’t just some cheap attempt at a rebound, is it?”

“What!?” Kageyama’s head snaps around comically fast, expression shocked. “No! No. Why would you—no! Jesus,” Kageyama shifts around uncomfortably, swirling his wine in his glass and keeping his eyes away from Hinata. “Don’t flatter yourself. God.”

“Alright, alright. Got it,” Hinata mumbles, propping his red face in his hand and blinking away. “Geez.”

It’s silent while Hinata lets this new embarrassment drag him down into the sucking black hole that was once his self-esteem and confidence. What is he doing to himself?  _Why_  did he do this to himself? He shouldn’t have come at all. He shouldn’t have asked Kenma to call that stupid number, he shouldn’t have even gone to that dumb bar and just stayed in bed wallowing in misery—

He sees Kageyama shift out of the corner of his eye, squaring himself in front of Hinata and steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. Hinata looks over.

“Unless,” Kageyama says, slowly, eye contact intense, “you want it to be.”

 

 

Hinata’s back collides with the tile wall of the bathroom, his throaty moans swallowed and tongued from his mouth as Dr. Kageyama’s lips slide hard against his. Strong hands clutch beneath Hinata’s shaking thighs and Hinata parts them further to feel the doctor fully against him, his legs wrapped up and around Kageyama’s waist.

Every driving cant of the doctor’s hips pulls another gasp from Hinata, small hands fisting desperately into black hair or the back of Kageyama’s shirt with that solid cock grinding hard against Hinata’s own length beneath too many layers of clothing.

“You feel— _fuck_ —” Hinata rasps out to the ceiling when Kageyama drops his face to Hinata’s sweat-damp neck, biting and sucking at his sensitive skin, “—need more— _please—“_

With a deep, possessive growl, Kageyama hitches the redhead higher up against the wall, firm fingers dragging up to roughly grip his ass, sharply pulling Hinata flush against him; Hinata has never felt so fucking  _manhandled_. Kageyama is so strong and can obviously toss him and move him around with ease, and the thought of those hands wrapped around his wrists and holding him down or pressed hard against the back of his head, shoving his cheek into the mattress while he gets mercilessly fucked has his cock throbbing and leaking into his underwear.

“Hinata,” Kageyama breathes, voice husky and low against Hinata’s ear, “I want you—so bad—“

“T-take me— _oh_ —oh  _god_ ,” Hinata begs gravelly, his back sliding with bruising force up and down the wall with every roll of their hips. “Please— have me—I need— _ah_!“

Hinata’s feet barely hit the ground before he’s bodily spun around, his hands bracing the wall as he’s shoved forward, breath catching when he feels urgent fingers rub hard over his hip. When Kageyama palms him through his pants, he keens.

“Shut up,” warm lips breathe against Hinata’s ear, fingers twining into his hair. Hinata can feel the doctor smirk when he presses his cock against Hinata’s ass, other hand moving to deftly flick open the button on his pants.

Hinata trembles with anticipation, panting against the wall while Kageyama shoves his pants down to his thighs. Teasing fingers run lightly, low on his belly right at the waistband of his briefs, dragging a shiver and a pitiful whine out of him; but then they’re gone, Kageyama’s hand sliding back to grip his hip.

Hinata’s mouth falls open to sob his protest, but that voice rumbles into his ear again,

“But it’s going to be hard to be quiet, so let me help you.”

And Hinata’s cock beats beneath damp fabric, his unbidden moan muffled by the wide palm that leaves his head to fit firmly over his mouth.

Brown eyes screw shut when Kageyama dips his fingers into Hinata’s briefs, encircling his length.

Hinata’s lips part, humid breath huffing against calloused skin while Kageyama strokes him with skill, bringing him off steadily, building that exquisite heat far too quickly deep in his gut.

But Hinata doesn’t even care – masculine pride be damned; he wants to come with Kageyama’s hand around him, his hard, thick cock pressing against him, teasing over his hole through his briefs. He’s dizzy with pleasure, jaw dropping and tongue lolling out against Kageyama’s fingers as he pants, rocking his hips, his aching cock sliding forward and back in the doctor’s hand.

When Kageyama’s fingers slide against his tongue, Hinata laps at them greedily, sucking and drooling over them while the hot pressure fills his belly, pushing him closer and closer to—

“Good,” Kageyama speaks suddenly, sliding his dripping digits from Hinata’s mouth and releasing his cock. Hinata cries out at the sudden loss; his own fingers flexing against the wall to keep himself from fisting around himself, desperate for release but secretly reveling in the delay.

“Ka—Kage—“ Hinata gasps, “Wh—why—“

But then his soaking underwear is being dragged down, and he jolts at the slick press of fingers wet and warm at his entrance.

And suddenly Hinata is very glad he didn’t come yet.

Because the slow aching stretch of Kageyama’s finger as it sinks into him is like nothing he’s ever felt in all his life. He shudders violently, his back arches and he jerks backwards to impale himself further; but a strong hand at his waist stills his eager hips.

“Dumbass,” Kageyama purrs. “Patience.”

Hinata bites his lip hard, thighs quivering and heart pounding loud in his ears.

And then Kageyama works in a second.

Hinata has never experienced the whole  _colors bursting behind his eyes_ thing – and even if he had, this is fucking ultraviolet. The laws of human perception have nothing on the powers of this man inside of him. He chokes, voice gurgling and useless, buried beneath every quaking exhale.

Kageyama’s other hand drags up his chest, careful when his long fingers curl around Hinata’s neck, palm pressing hard to his throat. He tilts Hinata’s head back to find his mouth, the red head’s back bowing to accept the doctor’s tongue between his parted lips.

The low groans of satisfaction fed to Hinata pulse heady and strong, syrupy pleasure swelling within him from the top of his head to the tips of his curling toes.

And then the doctor licks out of his open, drooling mouth, lips fiery when they find the shell of Hinata’s ear. The doctor breathes,

“Does it feel as good as you thought it would?”

 _Better_ , Hinata wants to say; god, he wants to yell about it, wants to sing his praise high and loud for the whole restaurant to hear – no, the whole fucking  _universe_  needs to hear how every cell of Hinata’s small trembling body is overwhelmed with the most intense waves of pleasure, how full he feels with just Kageyama’s fingers curling deep inside him. But all he can manage is a watery sob – a wordless cry echoing over the breath-damp tile wall.

He’s blacking out, vision swimming with a glorious haze. If this is what Kageyama can do to him now, fuck, he’d die stretched around his dick.

And when the doctor starts to scissor his fingers, opening and readying him, Hinata has never felt so rapturously suicidal.

So he finds his voice quickly, and gasps out,

“Hurry.”

Kageyama’s hand immediately leaves his throat, and a second later he can hear Kageyama unzipping his pants and tearing a condom wrapper open with his teeth. He’s left feeling painfully incomplete when those fingers leave him – collapsing against the wall and pulling in breath after hard, shuddering breath until he feels that hand on his hip again.

“Are you ready?” That deep voice rumbles before a kiss is pressed to the back of Hinata’s neck.

“Please,” Hinata begs breathlessly, squeezing his eyes shut, “fuck me.”

But nothing could have ever prepared him for the actual feel of the head of Kageyama’s cock pressing hard against his waiting hole; Hinata sucks in a powerful breath and—

 

 

“So…” Kageyama asks, brow arched, “did you stroke out or something?”

“Hm?” Hinata hums innocently, blinking. He squirms as subtly as possible, inching his way to the edge of his chair and casually dropping his hand into his lap and snagging his wine glass with the other. “No, I’m fine,” he replies breezily, taking a sip. “Why?”

Kageyama just pins him with a stare.

“What?” Hinata snaps.

And Kageyama’s face immediately pinches into a scowl. “If I’m boring you, you’re free to leave, you know.”

Hinata matches the doctor’s expression, scoffing. “I’m not  _bored_.”

“Yeah,” Kageyama snorts, “everyone’s eyes glaze over when they’re having the best time.”

“I’d say that’s accurate, yeah!” Hinata retorts honestly, cheeks pink.

The implication seems to catch the doctor off guard – for half a second, his face suggests surprise. But damn, that scowl just won’t leave his face. “You really don’t have to be here,” he hisses, leaning forward aggressively. “I just wanted to do the right thing, okay? But if your brain is off somewhere else then let me make this easy for you and just—“

“I was thinking about you fucking me in the bathroom, okay!?” Hinata blurts angrily.

He watches the bus boy with the water pitcher turn on his heel and flee over Kageyama’s shoulder. And then he swallows, wondering just what the hell he said when he reluctantly shifts his attention back to massive blue eyes.

Kageyama’s mouth works uselessly, jaw dropping and then closing again in utter shock.

Hinata’s bites his lip and whines, brow crinkling.

“I-I’m… I’m,” the doctor finally stammers, blinking rapidly, “I’m—um, excuse me!?”

Hinata huffs, placing his palms flat on the table. “You heard me!” He whispers shrilly; he’s suddenly panting. “I was imagining you dragging me into the bathroom, shoving me against the wall and—“

“Shh—stop!” Kageyama  _shush_ es frantically, waving his hands in front of his face, eyes shifting from side to side in a panic. “Where do you think—what the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“You are!” Hinata grinds out, rising abruptly to his feet, leaning forward onto the table. “Touching me like that in your office, giving me your number, taking me to this goddamn restaurant and showing up looking all like,” Hinata gestures wildly at the stunned man across from him, “ _that_!?”

“It’s because I want you, you fucking idiot!” Kageyama hisses.

There’s a pause, and Hinata sucks in a breath. And then they both move at the same time.

Hinata climbs up onto the table just as Kageyama reaches forward, dragging the smaller man up by the collar, his knees sliding over the table and knocking over wine and water before their lips crash together—

 

 

Okay, yeah that doesn’t seem likely either. Hinata sniffs, returning from his double fantasy on his own. But it doesn’t even seem to matter, because Kageyama isn’t even looking at him. He’s staring blankly at his wine glass.

Hinata clears his throat, and Kageyama looks up.

“I’m sorry for being rude to you,” Hinata says awkwardly. “I… I don’t know why I’ve been like this towards you. I’m not usually so… antagonized.”

“Antagonized?” Kageyama cocks a brow.

“Hostile?”

“Yeah, well," the doctor says with a frown, “I kind of like it, so. I’m not sure why that is, either.”

“You really are the worst,” Hinata grumbles, dropping his head back to the table. But it’s mostly to hide his smile. And then he has an idea.

“Hey!” He says, springing back up. “What are you doing after this?”

Kageyama’s eyes widen just a bit. “Um, no plans, why?”

“Well, after you’re done making it up to me, let me make it up to you?”

Kageyama’s brow furrows skeptically. “How?”

But Hinata grins. “With free access to a professional volleyball court.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter I dedicate to the lovely Biscuit :D Thank you for all of your support and giving the world the gift of your freaking amazing art! <333 You're incredible!!

_Wahhh!_  One more!”

“You said that ten tosses ago!”

“Yeah, but!  _Guh!_ ” Hinata runs his hands up into his hair, twisting it around his fingers as he whines up at the ceiling. “You’re so  _good_!”

“Thanks,” Kageyama says, wiping the sweat from his brow with his arm.

“I can’t believe you’re a  _setter_!” Hinata cries, chasing down one of their many practice balls. “What are the odds of that!?”

Kageyama shrugs.

“Come on, just a few more and then we can stop,” Hinata begs, running back and holding a ball out to Kageyama with the biggest set of puppy-dog eyes he can manage. “Pretty please?”

“What happened to  _one more_?” Kageyama says with a smirk, snatching the ball.

“You’re seriously better than any of the setters I’ve ever played with,” Hinata says, jogging to take his position on the court. “I can barely keep up with you!”

“You’re so full of shit,” Kageyama says with a roll of his eyes. “You haven’t stopped moving once since we started. I don’t think you have trouble keeping up with anyone.”

“Endurance is kind of my thing,” Hinata says, bouncing on his toes and flashing big toothy grin. “But, I mean, it’s like you toss right into my hand! If I was, like, a millionth of a second slower I’d miss!”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Would too!” Hinata insists. “Your tosses are so  _fast_.”

“It wouldn’t matter how slow you were,” Kageyama says, throwing the ball into the air and catching it, “I’d get the ball to you.”

Hinata scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “Cocky.”

“Not cocky,” the other man says easily, then makes a shoo-ing motion with his hand. “Move back.”

“Why?”

“So you have room to hesitate.”

Hinata cocks his head. He’s… not entirely sure what that’s supposed to mean, he but does as Kageyama says anyway and moves farther down the length of the net.

Because, yeah, he wanted Dr. Kageyama before, but after seeing him toss volleyballs for the past couple hours like some kind of setting god, it’s been all he can do not to jump the taller man where he stands.

He doesn’t feel like making an ass of himself tonight.

But maybe Kageyama will like him more if he does what he asks.

Maybe.

_Sad._

“Okay, so how am I supposed to hesitate, exactly?” Hinata asks, sticking his hands to his hips. “What does that even mean?”

“Just, I don’t know,” Kageyama huffs a sigh, “be slower.”

“Slower,” Hinata repeats. “Right.”

“Ready?”

Hinata nods.

_Hesitate. The fuck does that mean—_

And then he’s dashing along the net,

_Hesitate_

He’s watching Kageyama, the ball resting in his hands,

_Hesitate_

His big, beautiful, criminally soft hands,

_Hesitate_

Hands that could dismantle him piece by—

_Why hasn’t he tossed it yet!?_

Hinata trips into what would have been his jump, stumbling before launching off the ground— _hesitate_  indeed—but he’s too off balance by the time he sees the ball sailing towards him, his arm swinging wildly and—

He connects.

The ball hits the gym floor on the other side of the net at the same moment Hinata does; he crashes sideways against the hardwood, but he’s up again in an instant – pushing himself up into a sitting position in wide eyed in disbelief, watching the ball come to a slow rolling stop.

“Shit, are you okay?” Kageyama suddenly appears above him, expression concerned.

Hinata looks up, jaw slack and eyes round. He says,

“I love you.”

Kageyama jerks back. But Hinata is leaping to his feet, yelling and waving his arms.

“You hit my hand! You  _did_  that! You knew where I was going to swing and you  _tossed_ it there! My  _god_ , you’re incredible, Kageyama! You were doing that the whole time, weren’t you? I KNEW it! How!? How did you do that!? You should play professionally, oh my god, why  _don’t_  you play professionally!? You could walk onto any team and they would all throw themselves at your feet you are— _wahhh!”_

Kageyama is all rolling eyes and pink cheeks when he hauls Hinata to his feet by the back of his shirt. “Shut up, dumbass,” he mutters, “it wasn’t that great.”

But Hinata is having none of that. “Kageyama!” He bounces on his toes, grabbing the front of the setter’s shirt excitedly. “You have to come practice with us! O-or at least practice with me! Will you? Will you please practice with me again sometime!?”

“Jesus, yes,” Kageyama says, swatting Hinata’s hands away. “Just stop yelling in my face. I’ll practice with you.”

Hinata squeals, clapping his hands excitedly. “I can’t wait to tell the team about you, I’m sure they will be  _dying_  to meet you—”

“No,” Kageyama says quickly, “not them. Just you.”

“O-oh!” Hinata stills, blinking. “Okay… I-I can live with that.” He forces a smile, then, heat rising high in his cheeks before he looks away.

“It’s getting late,” Kageyama says with a quiet sigh, nodding towards the clock in the gym. “We should cool down a bit and clean up.”

“Yeah,” Hinata agrees, eyeing up the balls scattered all over the gym. He bends to gather one into his arms, hugging it to his chest. “Do you work in the morning?”

“No,” the doctor says simply. He gestures to Hinata, beckoning for him to toss him the ball.

“So,” Hinata starts when Kageyama bumps the ball back to him; Hinata receives it and bumps it back in return. “Really, why don’t you play professionally?”

“It just didn’t happen,” Kageyama says, receiving.

“Yeah but, I mean, you keep practice gear in your car,” Hinata points out, “so you’re dedicated, and obviously play a lot. And you’re  _amazing_.”

“You’ve never actually seen me play a game.”

“I don’t have to!” Hinata cries, catching the ball instead of returning it. “How did you learn to toss like that!? To… to hone in—to  _aim_  the ball right where you thought I’d be swinging my hand? Especially with that last one!”

Kageyama sighs and runs his long, perfect fingers through his hair. “I guess… I just never really had anyone who could,” Kageyama hesitates, blue eyes pulling away, “I never played with anyone who could… match my pace.”

Hinata arches a brow and tosses the ball back to Kageyama.

“I learned to adjust to other players’ abilities,” the setter says, receiving and returning again. “I learned how to read them, how to plan my tosses… so I didn’t have to compromise speed… a-as much.”

“Oh…” Hinata replies. He doesn’t know what else to say; he feels a tug of pain in his chest at the sadness so plain on Kageyama’s face.

“I wanted to play professionally, once,” Kageyama continues, “but holding back like that didn’t feel… it didn’t feel good… or  _right._  So I focused my energies elsewhere.”

“So you became a doctor?” Hinata scrunches up his face.

“I had a lot of energy.”

Hinata giggles at that, softly and a little shyly.

There are a few silent receives, after that, and Hinata chews on the inside of his cheek in thought, his heart sinking.

 _Holding back,_  he thinks.

So Hinata licks his lips and says,

“So…” he draws the word out, letting it hang between them like a portrait of his sudden unease. “Are you saying… you were holding back with me?”

Kageyama makes a weird face, then, like the question catches him off guard. But then,

“No,” he says, somewhat uncertainly.

But the sudden smile he gives Hinata makes his heart stop. And then the ball hits him in the face.

“Dumbass,” Kageyama mumbles, stepping forward and reaching a hand down to help Hinata to his feet for the second time. Hinata takes note of the way Kageyama’s fingertips slip gently off his when Kageyama releases his hand, leaving a tingle of warm electricity in their wake. A wobbly smile curls at Kageyama’s lips and he looks away. “Um,” he says with a sniff, “let’s clean up before I have to treat you for a concussion.”

Hinata scoffs, dusting himself off theatrically. “Pretty sure you’re not my doctor anymore,” he reminds Kageyama in a way that’s meant to be playful and teasing, but a fire immediately rockets up into his face at the mere reference to that fateful day in the doctors office, and he whips around, hiding his burning cheeks as he jogs over to the bench. He snatches up his water bottle and chugs deeply, gulping as much water as possible to cool the heat raging up inside him—

“Give me that,” Kageyama says, looming up from behind him and rudely snatching the bottle right out of Hinata’s hands; several ounces of water dribble down Hinata’s chin and soak his t-shirt while he gasps in surprise. “This is why you pee like a racehorse. Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to sip?”

And then Hinata watches the sexiest person on earth cover the spout of his bottle with his gorgeous lips and drink long and deep and slow. He feels himself flush deeper.

“H-hey!” Hinata squeaks, body positively vibrating at the thought of those lips on something that Hinata owns. “You have your own!”  

“Mm,” Kageyama hums, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tossing the bottle back to Hinata. He fumbles it before holding it tight against his chest. “I’m demonstrating the way humans drink.”

Hinata swallows and looks down at the bottle in his hands once Kageyama turns his back, heading towards the ball cart. He licks his lips and then presses them together, bringing the bottle slowly up towards his mouth—

“Are you helping? Kageyama calls over his shoulder.

Hinata jumps and drops the bottle down onto the bench before joining Kageyama in collecting the balls.

The first few minutes of cleanup are mostly silent, and Hinata spends the entire time peeking over at Kageyama when he thinks he’s not looking, blushing like an idiot when he is. His time with Kageyama is drawing to an end, and even if the doctor said he would practice with Hinata again, who knows if he actually will. Maybe Kageyama was just being nice…

Yeah, that’s unlikely, but still, maybe this is the last time Hinata will see him. And… well, after spending the evening with him, Hinata realizes that his feelings might just run a little deeper than just some vicious lust.

God help him, he actually  _likes_  the stupid jerk.

A lot.

He likes his scowly, brooding face, his long lapses of quiet and the way those cool blue eyes focus, unwavering, on Hinata when he rambles on and on about something.

And his grumpy demeanor makes those smiles of his only that much sweeter. That much more beautiful. And when Kageyama shares anything about himself he does it in this low, smooth voice that races across Hinata’s skin like goosebumps.

And sometimes, and seemingly at nothing at all, Kageyama blushes.

And Hinata has to press his hand to his chest to keep his heart in place.

God, he wonders how anyone could ever cheat on someone so…

So fucking  _perfect_.

The thought makes Hinata’s stomach churn. How dare someone treat this precious man so terribly. If Kageyama were his boyfriend, he’d…

He’d…

Wow, yeah, Hinata shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. The thin gym shorts he’s wearing wouldn’t hide much if he let his mind wander just a bit too far.

So Hinata has to make this last… if just for a few seconds longer.

“So…” Hinata says,  _accidentally_  dropping last few balls after gathering them into his arms.  

“Is it a habit of yours to start every sentence that way?” Kageyama asks, watching Hinata pick up the balls and drop them in the cart.

“Your um ex-boyfriend… does he play volleyball, too?”

“No,” Kageyama says flatly, walking beside Hinata while he wheels the cart towards the equipment room.

“Oh.”

Hinata fidgets, picking at a stray piece of plastic at the edge of the cart and intentionally slowing his gait. He isn’t sure why he’s chosen this particular topic of conversation. It doesn’t make him feel very good… not that Hinata has ever really been that jealous of a person, but nothing about how he’s feeling towards Kageyama has reflected any type of normalcy for him. “How did you guys meet?”

“Through a friend.”

“Oh.”

The only sound in the gym is the squeak of the wheels on the cart. “Did you—”

“I’m sorry,” Kageyama interrupts sharply, stopping in his tracks, “what makes you think I want to talk about this?”

“Ah, s-sorry,” Hinata says, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. “I just… um, well…” But then he snorts out angrily and balls his fists at his sides. “I don’t know how someone could cheat on you!” He cries.

“Well, you don’t really know me, so—”

“Why would that matter?” Hinata rounds on Kageyama, sticking his fists to his hips.

“Maybe I’m terrible.”

“You’re not terrible!”

“It’s my fault, really.”

“Kageyama!” Hinata gasps, taken aback. “How could you say that!?”

The doctor shrugs, blinking at Hinata dumbly.

Hinata’s face pinches into a scowl and he steps forward, jabbing his finger into Kageyama’s broad, sculpted chest. “I don’t care what you think about yourself, and yeah, maybe you’re a bit of an asshole, but no one deserves to be cheated on!”

A dark brow arches and Kageyama looks down at the hand now pressed flat to his chest.

But Hinata continues,

“If you were my boyfriend, I’d… I would…” He swallows, gaze shifting nervously.

“What?” Kageyama asks, blue eyes finding Hinata’s.

But Hinata’s body flares with heat and he drops his hand, stepping back and away. “N-nothing,” he says, turning away and placing his hands back on the cart. “Never mind.”

He takes a step and—

“No! Not  _never mind_!” He cries, wheeling back around. “You’re a tall, gorgeous doctor who plays volleyball like no one I’ve ever seen before and-and you’re, like,  _cute_  and unintentionally funny and somehow you’re really fucking dumb despite having gone to medical school and if you were my boyfriend I would treat you like a king!” He turns back around with a huff, cheeks on  _fire_ , and shoves at the cart, but the hand clapping on his shoulder stalls him. He freezes.

“What makes you think I’d want to be treated that way?” The doctor asks lowly, spinning Hinata around with a rough shove.

“I… I don’t!” Hinata snaps, trembling with embarrassment. “I’m just  _saying_ I… I would… you’d be… just,  _ugh_  move!” Hinata shoves at Kageyama and sprints towards the locker room.

He bursts through the door, panting when he leans back against a row of lockers and thudding his head back against the metal.

 _Stupid, stupid,_   _STUPID—_

Obviously, Kageyama barges in right after him, blue eyes wide and wild.

“What—”

“God, Kageyama, please,” Hinata interrupts, burying his face into his hands. “Just don’t say anything. You should go… I’ve embarrassed myself enough. I’m sorry… I don’t know why I said those things—”

“I’m not just leaving, you idiot.” Kageyama fires back angrily, stalking forward. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what!?” Hinata’s head snaps up and his fists hammer the lockers behind him. “You make me feel so… all, like,  _gwaaah_  and it’s…  _confusing_! Obviously I think you’re attractive, but I’m a fucking  _athlete_! Ninety percent of the people I work with are objectively hot, a-and, I don’t know, as much as I know that you’re an asshole I feel… oh god, I don’t  _know_  what I feel and it’s all your fault!” Hinata is shaking violently, his body too hot against the cold metal of the lockers, his mind reeling. “The way you touched me!” Hinata blurts, screwing his eyes shut. “I—”

“How did I touch you?” Kageyama interrupts with a dominant whisper. Hinata opens his eyes, and Kageyama takes a step closer, drawing within a couple inches from where Hinata stands, trembling. And when he places a large hand against the locker beside Hinata’s head, he feels trapped.

“I-I,” Hinata stammers, eyes flicking from Kageyama’s hand to his face, dark in shadow and hovering over him. “I felt t-things!” Hinata cries, shutting his eyes tight again, “And it was so embarrassing because you’re a doctor and it shouldn’t have felt like… l-like…”

“Like what?” Kageyama asks, speaking again in that quiet, rumbling voice, reaching his other hand towards Hinata. He brushes his knuckles softly over Hinata’s burning cheek before cupping it gently with his palm.

And Hinata’s eyes snap open, red and rimmed with tears. His own hands fly to his face, gripping Kageyama’s fingers tightly. “W-what are you doing?”

“Touching you,” Kageyama murmurs, moving his hand from the locker to rest against the other side of Hinata’s face, “the way I’ve wanted to all this time.”

“What?” Hinata asks, voice small and disbelieving as Kageyama wipes away a tear with his thumb.

Kageyama swallows, eyes sliding shut. “I’ve been feeling… guilty,” he whispers, “I touch people every day, and no one makes me feel anything. They  _shouldn’t,_ obviously, but I wanted to touch you more… so much more and it felt wrong.” Kageyama’s voice weakens, his head drops. “You were so uncomfortable… I didn’t know what to do, and then you ran out… I thought I’d never see you again. I felt terrible… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I… I thought you could tell that I…” Kageyama trails off, “and that was why you ran.”

Hinata can’t help but suck in a choking breath when Kageyama meets his eyes again.

“Doctors aren’t supposed to feel those kinds of things when they touch their patients.”

“What—” Hinata swallows thickly, his voice gravelly, “—did you feel?”

“I wanted to touch you everywhere,” Kageyama tells him softly, eyes full of rough, honest longing, “and never stop.”

It’s silent, then, for several agonizing seconds.

But then Hinata’s lips part and he breathes out, short and sharp, before calling the breath back into his lungs to gasp,

“Fuck—then touch me.”

Kageyama surges forward the same moment Hinata raises up onto his toes, their lips connecting with an urgent force; Hinata gasps when a hand finds it way into his hair, and Kageyama slips his tongue between parted lips, licking into Hinata’s mouth.

Hinata moans in response, rolling his tongue over Kageyama’s, throwing his arms around Kageyama’s neck and hitching a leg up over his waist – or rather  _trying_ to. Dr. Kageyama is so damn tall that pressing as close as he wants is proving difficult, and Hinata whimpers against Kageyama’s mouth.

Kageyama gets the hint.

Strong hands come to grip beneath Hinata’s thighs and Kageyama hoists him up against the lockers with ease, letting Hinata wrap his legs firmly around Kageyama’s waist.

And when Kageyama groans, Hinata fucking shudders. He can feel the other man’s cock, hot and hard and big in his gym shorts, pressing between his legs. He’s dizzy from it, mind blanking with Kageyama kissing him so desperately, and when Hinata dares widen his thighs, rolling his hips forward to feel more of that thickness against him, Kageyama jerks, gasping, lips smacking wet off Hinata’s to pull back and look Hinata in the face with dark, lidded eyes.

Small fingers run up into black hair, twinning into the strands at the back of Kageyama’s head and dull nails dragging across his scalp while blue eyes bore into brown, measured and focused.

“Hinata,” Kageyama breathes, licking his lips as if to taste the name again.

Rendered lust-drunk and speechless, Hinata just pulls breath after labored breath through wet lips, tongue almost panting as he watches the doctor watch him. But when Kageyama rolls his hips forward, sliding Hinata’s back up the lockers, brown eyes flutter and a deep moan trembles up his throat.

“F-fuck,” Kageyama breathes, dropping his face to the crook of the other’s neck and inhaling deeply, nudging his nose up the sweat-damp skin. He knocks his hips forward again in a way that suggests it was involuntary, jerking Hinata against him and groaning at the feel. “You smell so good.”

And when teeth scrape at his racing pulse, Hinata’s mouth falls open, forcing a watery gasp up towards the ceiling when he throws his head back. “’yama—” he bleats. He wants to tell him to stop – that he’s sweaty and gross and in desperate need of a shower from their practice but all he manages to say with a voice pinched and hoarse with need is,

_“More.”_

There’s a deep, possessive growl and fingers flex into Hinata’s thighs, and then they’re moving; Kageyama is spinning them around and dropping to his knees, carrying Hinata with him as if he weighs nothing. And suddenly the cool tile of the floor is soothing his burning flesh – cold and merciful against his back where his shirt rucked up.

There was no jarring thud or slamming of limbs to the floor; Kageyama placed him so gently against the ground it was almost seamless – careful and doting.

Still caught between Hinata’s legs, Kageyama hovers over him, hand pressed to the floor beside red locks splayed messy over the tile. Painfully aware of his own breathing now, with his ribs expanding and contracting, raising him off the floor with every deep, shaky inhale, Hinata holds his breath when Kageyama’s other hand moves towards his face, long, slender fingers brushing Hinata’s hair off his forehead.

He can feel that hand trembling when it smooths down the side of his face, fingertips drawing over the swell of his bottom lip.

A single breath shudders out of him when Kageyama grips his jaw, index finger continuing to trace the curves of his mouth. Urge takes over, and Hinata tilts his head slightly, capturing Kageyama’s finger gently between his teeth and watching the other man’s throat bob with a thick swallow when he closes his lips, tongue boldly curling around the salty skin. He can feel Kageyama’s cock twitch against his own – their thin, slippery shorts revealing everything.

His breathing turns ragged again when Kageyama chokes out a whimpered moan, a completely unexpected noise rattling from the man’s throat that shoots right to his dick, trembling his legs around the doctor’s strong waist.

Kageyama pulls his finger out of Hinata’s hot mouth on a gasp, the digit trailing wet beneath Hinata’s chin when Kageyama dips low, catching Hinata’s lips again with a new intensity; Hinata eagerly drops his jaw, pulling the larger man down with small hands fisted in the back of Kageyama’s shirt, reveling in the press of his weight on top of him.

“Ka—yama—” Hinata manages to gasp when the doctor drags his lips down to Hinata’s throat, laving his tongue over a hard swallow. “I—I”

“I wanted you the second I saw you.” Kageyama’s voice rumbles low against Hinata’s skin. He raises up, then, to look Hinata in the face – eyes serious and intense with his confession. “I’ve never needed someone so badly…” Kageyama trails off, biting his lip. He looks like he’s in pain, and Hinata’s heart swells in his chest. “Y-you’re—” he stammers, fingers shaky and hesitant when they dip beneath Hinata’s t-shirt, ghosting featherlight up the taut plane of Hinata’s stomach. Blue eyes drop to the exposed skin, the doctor’s lips parting at the sight as he smooths his wide, warm palm flat over Hinata’s chest. Hinata hiccups on a shuddering inhale when Kageyama’s thumb drags over the peak of a nipple. “I needed to see you again,” the other man tells him, voice thin and pleading. And then both hands are smoothing down Hinata’s trembling sides, pricking up goosebumps in their wake.

Hinata knocks his head back against the floor and moans, open-mouthed and unashamed, lost to the feeling of those hands on him, long fingers encircling his waist and blunt nails dragging against the small of his back when he pulls at Hinata’s hips.

Hinata fists at his own hair, his other hand gripping desperately against Kageyama’s thigh when those hands continue to wander, knuckles dragging softly, slowly, up over each ridge of his ribcage, hands turning over to run across Hinata’s shuddering chest.

He can feel his cock pulsing against Kageyama’s through their shorts, leaking heavily into his underwear with every pass of fingers over his flushed skin.

The fingers of one hand trace downwards, thumb circling Hinata’s navel before continuing to drift, tracing the line of red, downy hair low on his belly to his waistband where his shorts have slid low on his hips, lingering, teasing along the edge; the other hand slips up beneath the collar of Hinata’s shirt, fingers splaying over his throat.

Hinata’s own digits scrabble against Kageyama’s knee, seeking an anchor lest he get swept away in the sea of this indescribable pleasure supplied entirely by the doctor’s beautiful hands.

And then he finds it – Kageyama’s long fingers lace through his own where they grab at his skin.

Hinata forces his eyes open – he doesn’t know when he closed them – to watch the doctor bring Hinata’s hand to his mouth, pressing warm lips to each of his digits, their eyes pinned to one another’s.

Warm pulses of breath race over Hinata’s skin, matching the speed of his own when Kageyama holds Hinata’s hand against his lips, dragging his fingers over his mouth and letting his eyes flutter shut.

“I need you,” Kageyama breathes, soft and quiet against Hinata’s skin, eyes closed and brows knit together.

Hinata shivers against the floor, body too hot in contrast to the tile, his blood simmering beneath his skin, forced through his veins by the ardent racing of his heart. His skin is searing white hot at each point of contact – each anticipated promise of touch, and every place Kageyama put his hands on him prior.

Hinata is burning alive.

And when Kageyama works his eyes open, his gaze just fans the flames – and Hinata walks into them, gladly.

He winds his free hand into Kageyama’s shirt, yanking him down as if to crash their lips together, but he stills, lips barely brushing the doctor’s own when he breathes, reverent and wanton,

 _“Then take me_.”

They close the distance between them, jaws dropping and tongues entwined, moans buried in the roll of hips and tongues, their hands winding into hair, tugging and pulling, nails scratching over backs and shoulders; the only interruptions to the press of their lips are the heated gasps of pleasure and need, only serving to heighten the sensation thrumming under Hinata’s skin. He wants to know nothing else – just the smell and sound and feel of Kageyama against him.

And so he disentangles a hand from black hair, bringing it to the waistband of his shorts—

“No,” Kageyama pants against Hinata’s open mouth, big hand gripping Hinata’s wrist, stalling his attempts to rid himself of his clothes.

“No?” Hinata whimpers, fingers flexing into the fabric. “Why—”

“Not here,” Kageyama breathes, hoisting Hinata up into his lap where his thighs part wide over Kageyama’s hips. He takes Hinata’s chin between his fingers, speaking against his lips. “I’m not fucking you on the floor of some locker room.”

Hinata’s stomach swoops at the words, cock thumping where it’s pressed to the doctor’s waist. He screws his eyes shut and forces a quick nod.

“Come back to my place,” Kageyama asks, a pleading hitch to his voice.

“Y-yeah,” Hinata stutters, swallowing. “How far?”

“Fifteen-minute drive,” Kageyama breathes, hands coming to rest against Hinata’s hips. “Can you wait that long?”

Hinata’s eyes drop to Kageyama’s lips, dragging his own bottom one through his teeth. No – no he can’t  _wait_.

But he’ll have to try. So he nods.

“ _Please…_ " he whimpers, leaning forward to press his lips against the shell of Kageyama's ear, "drive _fast_.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this certainly got away from me.
> 
> I'm dedicating this chapter to my precious friend @arcanememory for being so super amazing and kind at all hours of the night and day :D

“Gre—Ka— _ah—_ gre—’yama—”

 

“Shit—”

 

“Gre—n— _mm—”_

 

 _“_ W-what?”

 

“Ligh— _god_ —”

 

“ _Wha_ —”

 

“Green—”

 

“—huh?”

  
“Green—l-light— _mm—_ green— _go—_ go, Kageyama! _”_

“Dammit—” Kageyama grinds out, begrudgingly jerking his face away from Hinata the same moment he slams his foot on the gas. The car lurches forward, pitching Hinata back through the gap in the seats with a yelp.

“Shit,” Kageyama says, taking his eyes off the road for half a second to shoot a look over his shoulder, “are you alright— _ah—_ "

Hinata is far better than _alright_ with the damp skin of Kageyama’s neck beneath his lips as he attacks the other man from behind; he drags his mouth up over the doctor’s racing pulse, a demanding hand roaming down over his chest, splaying out to get as much of Kageyama under his touch as possible while his other hand grips the headrest for leverage, unashamedly feeling the muscles that lie beneath the thin white t-shirt.

“Mm— _fuck—”_ Hinata breathes against Kageyama’s ear, dragging his lip through his teeth while his palm slides low on Kageyama’s stomach. There are no words for how exquisitely toned Kageyama’s body is— _perfect_ certainly comes close, but it will never fully capture the crux of his hunger for the man in the driver’s seat as his abs flex beneath Hinata’s fingers when Kageyama hisses in a breath through his teeth.

“D-dumbass,” Kageyama stutters, voice rough from releasing breath after heated breath, “if we crash it’s—your fault—

Inwardly, Hinata snickers, outwardly, he can’t help push his aching cock against the back of the leather seat as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses down Kageyama’s neck, clamping his teeth down over the slope of his shoulder to roll his tongue over warm, savory flesh. The doctor tastes like salt and sweat and fucking _ecstasy_ – the flavor of pure sex and it’s making Hinata’s head swim; his breath starts coming quick, hot and humid as he pants against the delicious skin.

But then he’s being hauled forward by a hand wound up in his shirt and Kageyama drops him back into his seat.

“Put your seatbelt on,” the doctor demands breathlessly, his eyes wild and dark when they pull away from Hinata, the fingers of one hand flexing anxiously over the steering wheel while the other releases Hinata’s shirt to grip the gearshift for what appears to be dear life.  

Hinata ignores his command completely and slides forward, kneeling on the seat and leaning over the center console to get his hands on the doctor’s thigh, eyes lidding as he raises up to nudge his nose up under Kageyama’s throat, inhaling his masculine scent deeply. He lifts his face to press his lips against Kageyama’s jaw, fingers moving, groping the muscle beneath his hands.

The doctor swallows hard when Hinata’s hands slip to the inside of his thigh, legs widening in the driver’s seat as he moans – high and thin and a little pained, more like a whimper.

Leaning back just enough to look at the side of the man’s gorgeous face, Hinata watches his eyes flutter dangerously when fingers drag up towards the massive bulge tenting what were once considerably loose gym shorts, straining in the fabric like they’re about to burst open at the seams.

“My _god_ —” Hinata breathes, his own cock thumping in his shorts at the sight and stomach cinching with desire as his hand moves closer to the swollen flesh. He feels so _empty_ just then, body aching so bad for something he hasn’t felt in ages – fuck, with something he’s probably _never_ felt, what with the size of the thing trapped in Kageyama’s pants. And just as the tips of his fingers brush over the head—

“ _Stop_ ,” Kageyama growls out shortly in that deep voice of his, his big hand leaving the gearshift to snatch Hinata’s hand away, holding it up in the air near Hinata’s face.

Startled brown eyes flick up to pink lips, parted and panting like the doctor very much does not want Hinata to stop. Blue shift over, dark with a need so obvious it makes Hinata’s knees weak and thighs tremble where he kneels on the seat. And so Hinata lowers his face to press his lips to the man’s hand, slipping his tongue past his lips, laving over the knuckles and drawing another reprimand buried deep in a husky groan of frustration and pleasure. God, he needs to taste more of him.

Kageyama nearly chokes on a shaky inhale, eyes pinned determinedly to the road as the car races through the night, his fingers gripping the wheel so tight Hinata thinks he might rip the thing off the column.

Which would be fine. They’d _have_ to stop driving, then. And getting bent over the hood of a car with Kageyama behind him might just be the newest addition to his bucket list.

But then Kageyama is shoving him backwards, toppling Hinata back into the seat and yanking his hand away, running it through his own hair and then around the back of his neck in an act of clear agitation before dragging his fingers down over his own breath-wracked chest, lower and lower over his abdomen with his lip caught in his teeth.

Hinata swallows, eyes widening and watching the trajectory of that hand with bated breath. But then it strays from its path, rubbing hard over Kageyama’s thigh, forward and back, and then resting against the center console.

His posture is so open, fucking… so _inviting_ and contrary to his words that Hinata whimpers, knocking his head back against the window as his eyes magnetize to the hardness between the doctor’s long legs.

Kageyama licks his lips. “Exercise some fucking self control,” he says threateningly, voice strained, nonetheless.

“Why?” Hinata whines, propping his feet against the divider between them and slipping a hand between his thighs. His back arches and he moans out to the ceiling when he gives his length a firm squeeze, eyes dropping shut.

Hinata swears to all that is good and holy that he has never behaved like this is all of his days, but his body is too hot and he’s wound up too tight, heart beating so hard he can feel it moving in his chest. He’s intoxicated – under the influence of some drug of which he’s never before known the effects. Passively, in his stupor, he wonders if the man leaks a toxin in his sweat, something sweet and tantalizing to heighten his senses and scatter his thoughts. He feels outside of his body, his joints tacked with strings and limbs controlled by some divine being that widens his legs, brings up a hand to stuff into his own sweat-damp hair as he slowly drags his other hand up his length to find just an ounce of blessed relief.

Kageyama is literally driving him mad.

When his eyes manage to open, Kageyama’s gaze snaps from his and down to his hand and back to the road, his throat struggling around a swallow as he looks back over at Hinata working himself through his shorts.

 “ _Why,_ Kageyama?” Hinata asks again, wondering why on earth he should ever need any self control while in the presence of a man who quite clearly wants _him_ just as badly.

Or… or maybe he doesn’t. Oh shit, what if he—

“Because I don’t have any!”

Kageyama heaves an exasperated breath, but then he’s moving, hand lifting off the console and reaching towards Hinata; for a second, Hinata thinks he’s going to smack his hand, chastising him again and he tenses up, but then long fingers encircle his calf and his back is suddenly sliding roughly down the door before he’s lying flat on the seat as Kageyama pulls his right leg up over his lap, the other falls through the gap in the seats, leaving him wide open, legs spread around Kageyama and waiting for his next move.

Kageyama sucks in sharply when Hinata’s calf nudges over the head of his cock, a deep, husky groan rolling up from his chest when he presses his hips forward, up and off the seat to seek that contact once again and letting his eyes slip closed for a fraction of a second.

 _“A-ah—”_ Hinata’s own eyes flutter when gentle fingers crawl up the inside of his thigh. He pops up onto his elbows, panting through wet lips as fingertips ghost featherlight up higher and higher, climbing under the leg of his shorts. From beneath eyelids lidded and heavy, Hinata watches the other man’s handsome face, a plump lip dragging through the doctor’s white teeth when strong digits grip hard into the flesh just below the swell of Hinata’s ass.

“God, I love your legs,” Kageyama murmurs, biting his lip again as he squeezes.

“I noticed,” Hinata breathes, smirking and pressing down on the throbbing cock shoved up against the back of his knee.

Biting back a moan, Kageyama rolls his hips up, jerky and sudden, but the devious smile slides right off Hinata’s face and gives rise to a hoarse, wanton gasp when the doctor’s fingers dip under the leg of his tight briefs, stroking just barely over the underside of his balls.

Hinata keens, arms trembling and elbows slipping out from under him before he falls back down onto the seat when fingertips tease between his balls and his hole, rubbing gently over the sensitive skin.

“Oh _fuck—”_ Hinata gasps, one hand winding into his hair and the other gripping at the seat back above him. “H-how much _longer_?” He mewls, screwing his eyes shut and whimpering loudly when Kageyama’s thumb slips along the base of his twitching cock. “O-oh, _there_ —” he brazenly lifts his hips up, begging for more. “There— _please_ —"

“Almost,” Kageyama’s deep voice rumbles as his fingers begin to circle Hinata’s aching length. But then,

“Shit!” Kageyama grunts, yanking his hand away from Hinata and slamming it against the wheel as the car comes to a hard, jarring stop at a red light.  

Hinata scrambles up, drawing a hiss from Kageyama when his leg drags over his lap, but a second later his lips crash against the side of the doctor’s half-open mouth, fingers of one hand wound into black hair and the other cupping the man’s fine jaw, forcing his face towards him to stick his tongue in his mouth again, moaning and gasping against lips just as insistent as his own as long fingers tangling into red hair to crush their lips together.

Hinata’s hand detaches from Kageyama’s face, groping down the front of him, across ridges of well-worked muscle, lower and lower and—

“Stop—” Kageyama commands again, yanking hard on the messy red locks between his fingers.

“Let me touch you— _ah!_ ” Hinata pleads breathlessly, voice catching on a moan when Kageyama tugs again, craning Hinata’s head back roughly.

“Shit, sorry—” the doctor says suddenly, expression worried, loosening his grip on Hinata’s hair. But then: “Wait…” dark brows furrow over inquisitive blue eyes, studying Hinata’s face in the red glow of the stop light, “you liked that.”

“ _Mm—”_ Hinata groans, eyelids fluttering when fingers tighten again experimentally. “Y-yeah,” he rasps. “ _Yes.”_

“That’s… good to know,” Kageyama mutters before pulling Hinata back towards him, capturing his open lips and licking into his mouth.

“P-please,” Hinata bleats, raking his fingers hard through black hair when Kageyama kisses down his jaw, “let me— _touch_ you—I want—”

“No,” that low voice vibrates across the thin skin of Hinata’s throat. He shivers and drops a determined hand down between them, fingers just grazing over the waistband of the most offensive piece of clothing on the face of the planet before he’s violently tugged backwards, thrown back into his seat just as the car leaps forward into the night.

As if he’s ever been that easily deterred.

He’s back up in an instant, hand smoothing over the doctor’s thigh again, leaning up to whisper in his ear,

“ _Let me make you feel good_.”

He nibbles at the doctor’s ear, drawing a bodily shudder out of him. Kageyama _wants_ it – Hinata can practically smell it on him, the _need_ to have Hinata’s hands on him so why the fuck is he being so goddamn difficult.

“ _I want you in my mouth,”_ Hinata continues, his own words shooting straight to his dick as he imagines the weight of the doctor on his tongue, the salty fluid dribbling into the back of his throat as he makes the other man sob in ecstasy. _“Let me taste you.”_

Kageyama whines, angling his head away from Hinata’s breathy voice. “Cut it out,” he grinds out weakly through his teeth.

 _“Why?_ ” Hinata breathes, chasing him and tongue flicking out against the lobe of the doctor’s ear as he shuffles up a leg of those goddamn shorts, fingers teasing along the tensing muscle.

“H-Hinata,” Kageyama pants, blue eyes wide and panicked as they watch the road “please, s-stop—”

“You want it,” Hinata tells him, hand slipping down the inside of his firm leg. He licks his lips at the sight of that huge cock twitching, excitement swelling within him and his own arousal leaking heavily into his underwear. He wants to show Kageyama what he’s doing to him, to dip his fingers into his own shorts and drag across the slick head before slipping his digits past the doctor’s bitten lips, letting him taste Hinata’s desperation.

_Later._

“You want me,” Hinata continues, “so why—”

“Because there is very little keeping me from pulling over and riding your ass fucking raw on the side of the road, okay?” Kageyama growls, fist winding tightly into Hinata’s collar to shove him back a couple inches. They’re both breathing hard, blue eyes darting from the road to Hinata’s own drunken gaze.

And Hinata throws all caution to the wind.

He climbs over the divider, straddling the other man in the seat while the car hurdles through the dark streets.

“Dumbass! W-what the fuck—” Kageyama cries, both hands snapping up to the wheel, caging Hinata between them.

But Hinata dips forward, knowing full-well that Kageyama can see around him, and presses his lips to the side of Kageyama’s neck and his palms flat to his toned chest and breathes,

“ _I sort of hoped I’d be the one doing the riding._ ”

And to the sound of Kageyama gasping at the words, Hinata sinks down into the doctor’s tented lap, gliding his ass over the stiff flesh for clarification and drawing dual, heady moans out of both of them as the car swerves briefly before Kageyama jerks the wheel, righting the vehicle and snapping a hand to Hinata’s hip.

“Oh _fuck_ —” Kageyama groans, meeting a downward roll of Hinata’s hips with a jolting upward thrust, a strong hand gripping hard at Hinata’s waist to yank him forward again, dragging Hinata over his cock, forward and back. Hinata’s own aching hardness pushes against the doctor’s solid abdomen, rubbing hard over the firm muscle over and over again.

“ _Tobio_ , _”_ Hinata husks into Kageyama’s ear, mouth open and wet, tongue panting as they rock together. “So _big—"_

“Shut—up,” Kageyama hisses, taking a hard turn; tires squeal in the quiet night and Hinata throws his arms around Kageyama’s neck to stay anchored in his lap.

“ _So_ big—” Hinata rasps again, “and— _hard—_ you feel— _wah!”_

The car grinds to a bumping halt, throwing Hinata against the steering wheel and blaring the horn for the the millisecond it takes Kageyama to unfasten his seatbelt open the door and half-drag half-carry Hinata out of the car.

Hinata’s feet barely hit the ground before he’s jumping back up onto Kageyama, legs wrapping around his waist and lips sucking, teeth biting the man’s neck before he has a chance to slam the door.

With a muffled groan, Kageyama grabs beneath Hinata’s ass with one hand and winds the fingers of the other into red hair to force their lips together again as he walks with Hinata latched onto him, his small hands cupping Kageyama’s face between them.

In the far back of his cloudy mind, Hinata can’t help but marvel at the man’s strength – he may be short, but years of hard training have packed on several pounds of solid lean muscle; by no stretch of the imagination is Hinata _light._ In fact, _‘alarmingly dense’_ is a phrase he’s heard on more than one occasion.

At least… that’s what he tells himself it means.

But the doctor handles him as if he were a rag doll, his back crashing against the front door (oh, okay, so they’re at the house. Hinata was beginning to wonder if he would be fucked in some field) while Kageyama jams the key into the lock.

They fall into the entryway—almost literally when the door flies open behind Hinata and Kageyama stumbles inside. He manages to keep them upright, slamming the door with his foot while Hinata breaks from his lips, wiggling and shimmying around in Kageyama’s arms to stuff a hand between them, grabbing at the front of Kageyama’s shirt and trying to yank it up and off while he’s still all wrapped around him.

“Idiot,” Kageyama huffs, breathing hard and eyes lidded when he looks Hinata in the face, “that’s not going to work.”

“Then put me down!”

“Not a chance,” Kageyama murmurs, raising his head to speak against Hinata’s lips as he moves them further into the dark house.

“But,” Hinata whines, throwing his arms around Kageyama’s neck, “I want to—”

“I’ll give you everything you want,” Kageyama husks, nudging his nose beneath Hinata’s throat. "I promise."

That deep voice rumbling against his skin sends a crazy shiver up his spine, the little composure he has left fuzzing at the edges as he feels himself being carried up the stairs. He’s dizzy with need, cock thumping and leaking between them – Hinata swears Kageyama can feel the dampness through his shirt.

The list of things he wants from the doctor is long – sordid and salacious and brimming with debasements that would make him squirm with a vicious shame in any other context. But he wants nothing more than to divulge every one of his deepest fantasies to the man who’s about to rip him apart; he knows it’s going to hurt (you don’t go… _however_ much time not getting fucked without consequences, and Hinata’s fingers can only do so much – christ, having four of them stuffed inside himself wouldn’t even come close to preparing him for this) but he’s positively aching at the thought of being impaled. And so he starts with the first thing on his list—the most pressing, by far:

 _“I want you to fuck me_ ,” Hinata breathes, those words tumbling over fresh, wet lips, bitten and bruised and literally begging for more. He leans forward finds Kageyama’s ear and continues, _“to split me open—god—it’s been so_ long, _”_ he mewls, _“I’ll be so_ tight _for you, Tobio, so—”_

And it’s to this that Kageyama sucks in a sharp breath and trips, stumbling up the stairs. He catches them with one hand braced against a step to cushion Hinata’s fall, but with his back against something now, Hinata takes the opportunity to get his fingers beneath the hem of Kageyama’s shirt and pull it up over his head.

When the shirt drops away, Hinata’s eyes and hands magnetize to the doctor’s flawless chest, palms smoothing down to abs that dreams are made of. But when he lifts his head, he’s met with a look of surprised concern.

“What did you say?” Kageyama asks breathlessly, eyes wide and almost fearful.

Swallowing, Hinata curls his fingers into his palms, withdrawing them from the doctor’s body.

“I um, uh—” Hinata shifts his eyes away nervously. What had he said? Did he say something wrong? “I just, I mean, you—”

“What do you mean it’s been ‘so long’?”

Hinata licks his lips and swallows again, thickly. “I—well, you see, it’s, um, w-well—”

And a large hand comes up to gently grasp Hinata’s chin in his fingers, tilting Hinata’s face towards him as his own lowers to look at Hinata from beneath his lashes. “Weeks?” Kageyama ventures a guess, voice low and deep. “Months?”

“Y-years?” Hinata squeaks. He can’t see Kageyama face – it’s already dark on that staircase, and the doctor’s black bangs throw his expression into shadow.

There’s a pause, and Hinata can feel anxiety welling up in his throat, but then—

“Why?”

Hinata’s nose scrunches up. “Huh?”

“Well—um, I guess,” Kageyama moves between his legs, shifting his weight onto his hand and leaning in closer so that Hinata can now see his face. The man looks absolutely baffled, eyes wide and searching. “I mean… _how?_ ”

“What kind of question is that?” Hinata asks, eyes flicking down to the other man’s lips. He wants to go for them again, to stop all this silly talk about why he hasn’t felt like trolling around to have some random cocks shoved inside him. Heaven forbid he have some fucking _standards_.

“You’re just so…” Kageyama tapers off and looks away with a crinkled brow, struggling to find his words. “So…” he says again, gesturing vaguely at Hinata without looking at him.

“What?” Hinata presses, leaning in an inch.

He jumps when those blue eyes snap to his, dangerous and molten and intent. 

“Fucking _stupid_ ,” Kageyama growls, lunging for Hinata, attacking his lips with a new ferocity that has Hinata gasping into his mouth, hands scrabbling at shoulders and stuffing into hair. Hinata hooks an ankle around the doctor’s back, pulling him down and rolling his hips up against the thick flesh trapped in those fucking shorts. The deep moan that rattles up from Kageyama’s throat reaches down into the depths of Hinata, churning him up and hitching his breath as Kageyama’s tongue slides over his own and a warm hand drags over his knee, up the side of his thigh, beneath his shorts, his briefs, to grip his ass with strong fingers.

Hinata pulls off warm, eager lips to throw his head back, letting the doctor mouth over the front of his exposed throat, lapping hungrily while their hips roll.

He’ll have bruises along his spine tomorrow.

“You gonna—take me—on the stairs?—” Hinata breaks off his question with a keen, high and loud to the ceiling when Kageyama sucks hard at his collarbone.

“Is that what you want?” The doctor asks, a teasing lilt to his muffled voice, warm breath fanning out over Hinata’s skin before he raises his head. Lips parted around hasty breaths shimmer with both of their spit and Hinata’s sweat in the faint light coming in from outside, and Kageyama licks them hungrily, watching Hinata with intensity.

“I just,” Hinata whispers, voice barely audible in the space between them, “want  _you_ —”

The doctor dips his head and steals a fiery, open-mouthed kiss from Hinata, deep and long and messy that leaves Hinata reeling when Kageyama pulls away, and then his world is tilting on its axis with strong fingers gripping at his waist, flipping him over to his hands and knees. Brown eyes screw shut, his jaw dropping and a gasp dying in his throat when a heat blankets his back and fingers wind into his hair, rough with a sharp tug against his scalp; but when the doctor’s cock drags smoothly through the clothed cleft in his ass, a gravelly cry echoes through the house. Hinata trembles on weak arms braced against the stairs, his breathing too fast, too sharp when it pushes from his lungs. And then the weight behind him shifts, scorching lips push against the burning shell of his ear and rumble,

“ _Go_.”

It takes Hinata’s muddled brain to catch up to the command, but when it does, he sucks in a ragged breath and scrambles up the rest of the stairs on all fours with the doctor directly behind him. When he reaches the landing, he’s forcibly yanked back by the collar of his shirt, slamming against the other man’s solid torso before being bodily spun around and their lips collide again, tongues rolling messy and out of control.

Moans fill the dark apartment as Hinata is led blindly down the hall, large hands pawing at his t-shirt, demanding its immediate removal with a rough tug over his head punctuated by grunts of desperation and the thudding of limbs off walls as they stumble through the darkness in what Hinata hopes is the direction of Kageyama’s bedroom.

His prayers are answered when the backs of his legs connect with the bed and he falls backwards onto a soft, cushy comforter; there’s a bit of shuffling before the Hinata’s head finds a pillow, his hands falling beside his face, palms open when the doctor climbs over him.

Breaths are shallow and eyes are wide as they stare at each other, and Hinata can’t suppress the thick, awkward swallow at the feeling of Kageyama looming over him, his large form casting a shadow over the bed from the hazy night glow streaming in from the open curtains; it’s thrilling and yet oddly terrifying when Hinata fully begins to appreciate the sheer _size_ of the man above him and the vulnerable position he finds himself in – he is entirely at Kageyama’s mercy. And with a warm palm smoothing up his heaving chest, Hinata begins to tremble with an eager trepidation.

“You’re—” Kageyama beings hoarsely with a swallow of his own when he cups the side of Hinata’s face, “you’re shaking.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Hinata lies, turning to nuzzle into the touch. He feels the flush in his face deepen and an influx of blood rush to his cock when his mouth presses to the warm palm, his own breath puffing against his face when his parted lips drag across the skin.

“You _are_ ,” the other man insists, his voice buried in a groan when Hinata gets a long finger into his mouth, sliding the digit over his tongue and dragging his eyes back to meet Kageyama’s, blown and dark and full of a longing that Hinata has never seen from anyone. “I’m not going to—to hurt you,” the doctor tells him, breath hitching when Hinata rolls his tongue around a knuckle. Hinata closes his lips and slips the finger from his mouth.

“I know that,” he huffs, keeping the tremor from his voice, “god.”

His petulance is quickly rising along with his nerves and he looks away from those piercing eyes again, knowing damn well that if this is to continue, it _will_ hurt – but he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to take every single throbbing inch the doctor has to give him.

“Do you?” The doctor murmurs, trailing his hand down to Hinata’s throat, the wet finger drawing a slick line of saliva down over his chin. When that palm settles over his quivering chest, Hinata screws his eyes shut, catching his lip in his teeth and whimpering low in his throat. Kageyama is feeling his heart race.

And to Hinata’s slight dismay, the asshole actually slides his fingers up to the side of Hinata’s neck, pressing two digits firmly yet softly into his skin.

The doctor is fucking _checking his pulse_.

“You!” Hinata cries accusatorially, eyes snapping open, jerking away from the gesture and flailing around before Kageyama snatches his hand, stilling his tantrum and taking Hinata’s fingers into his own before bringing them to his own neck, watching brown eyes with a measured focus and pressing the pads of Hinata’s digits to his pulse.

And it’s absolutely _flying._

Hinata’s eyes widen, brows arching in surprise when Kageyama’s grip loosens, but Hinata’s fingers remain pressed to the fluttering rush of blood beneath the skin.

“S-so,” Hinata’s voice is quiet, almost meek in his ears and he wets his lips, letting his fingers drop and trail reverently over Kageyama’s throat, “what’s the prognosis, doctor?”

“Mine is faster.”

“I’m an athlete,” Hinata points out. “Conditioning and… cardio… stuff. All that.”

“I am too.”

“Obviously,” Hinata mutters, dropping his eyes to the toned body. “But… I’m a professional.”

“I’m bigger.”

“Well… yeah, but—” Hinata puffs out a breath, squirming on the bed. “What are we competing for here, stupid? What’s your point?”

Kageyama just shrugs a shoulder. But then he slowly drops down onto his forearms, pressing a comfortable weight to Hinata’s body and his lips to the side of his jaw. “I promise,” he breathes, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know you’re not,” Hinata says with a small huff of annoyance into black hair, wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck. His legs are tragically trapped between Kageyama’s thighs so he’s unable to wrap those around him as well, but he revels in the warmth of the body settled on top of him, even if Kageyama isn’t letting the whole of his weight press against Hinata, leaving a small gap between them, it still feels _good_. “Let me show you how I can take you.” He lifts his hips up in search of contact but Kageyama is just out of reach.

“You’re an idiot,” Kageyama murmurs to sweat-damp skin.

“Am _not_ — _ah—_ ” His protests die off, thin and airy in his throat when Kageyama rolls his hips downward, gliding the hard mass over and back over Hinata’s aching length. These years of celibacy have left him with a rabid hunger, and here he is presented with a feast promising to fill him to the brim.

He is _not_ going to back down.

“L-let me—” he stammers, “let me have it. _Please—fuck—p-please,_ Kageyama, I want it—want you to—to fuck me—” but then Kageyama pulls his hips away and Hinata whines at the loss.

“Shut up, dumbass,” Kageyama rumbles, not unkindly, against the shell of Hinata’s ear. “I told you I’d give you everything you wanted.”

“So get on with it!” Hinata whimpers, dull nails scratching down Kageyama’s muscular back. “Do it then, _please_.”

But in response, Kageyama does the exact _opposite_ of what Hinata is begging so pathetically for – he raises up off him completely, putting an agonizing distance between them; he keeps his eyes glued to Hinata’s face while he walks himself backwards down the length of Hinata’s body and then dips down to trail the tip of his nose lightly down Hinata’s chest, lips soft when they caress over his navel, drawing a cascade of short, rapid breaths in and out from between Hinata’s parted lips.

Kisses are tender when Kageyama presses them to the sensitive skin low on Hinata’s belly, and hands are much the same when they ghost up the sides of Hinata’s ribcage, goosebumps rising on the heated flesh in their wake.

Small, trembling fingers slide their way into black hair, combing through the soft locks as Hinata shivers against the bed, posting his feet flat to the mattress and raising his knees to either side of the doctor’s body.

Kageyama pauses, then, breath warm just above the waistband of Hinata’s gym shorts where they have slipped low on his hips. Palms smooth down to rest against Hinata’s waist, hesitant, almost, before fingers curl beneath the elastic, sliding around to the back and slipping the shorts and his briefs down over the shapely curve of his ass.

Hinata gasps when his cock springs free and he releases Kageyama’s hair, letting his hands drop to his chest and allowing the man to pull his shorts off and abandon them at the foot of the bed. Kageyama is back between his legs in an instant, hovering over Hinata’s naked body; he’s never felt so vulnerable, simmering with a hot anticipation fluid under his skin.

Hinata’s blood spikes with that dark gaze raking across his bare flesh; maybe he would normally be struck with the urge to cover himself beneath such scrutiny, but the ravenous glint to Kageyama’s azure eyes makes him want to spread himself wide, to let his knees fall open and offer himself up for the taking – like a ripe fruit begging to be plucked. He wants to stretch out beneath Kageyama, to feel those eyes explore every inch of his flushed skin.  

And as if he can hear Hinata’s thoughts, Kageyama slowly moves to take Hinata’s hands, one by one, and place them above his head, stretching Hinata’s arms up towards the headboard until his fingers brush against the wood. Lifting his chin and parting his lips on a steady inhale, Hinata watches Kageyama’s face while his fingers encircle both of his wrists, pinning them to the bed in a strong, one-handed grip.

And it’s like this, helpless, utterly defenseless, that Hinata can soak in the full warmth of Kageyama’s gaze.

But he wants more – _oh_ so much more.

“ _Nn—ah!_ Ka—yama—” Hinata mewls, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath when the fingers of Kageyama’s other hand trace featherlight up his side, his touch electrifying every fiber in Hinata’s body, arching his back and stoking the flames of need lapping at him from deep inside.

He lolls his head to the side, pushing the side of his face into his arm and exposing the long line of his neck to those fingers, splayed and covetous when they wrap around his throat. He revels in the gentle press of Kageyama’s hand around him; it’s comforting rather than threatening, and so fiercely arousing that Hinata can feel his own cock pulse, a slick puddle forming beneath the head where it bobs against his stomach. The doctor isn’t choking him by any means, but the pressure is firm when Hinata swallows beneath the wide palm.

And Hinata spurs him on, beckoning Kageyama with a slight lift to his chin, their eyes meeting when the pressure increases only slightly, and only for a moment, before it lessens, slowly giving way with the brush of fingertips and thumb, first over the sides of his neck and then the sensitive front of his throat.

He can feel the heat of the doctor’s gaze travel over his body when Kageyama turns his hand over and lets the back of his index finger trace down the center of Hinata’s chest – those eyes are literally raising the temperature of his skin to a near fever, but, still, Hinata shivers, lungs pulling in too much air when Kageyama’s digits drag through the mess on his belly before his palm lies flat against it.

 _“Shouyou,”_ Kageyama murmurs with such quiet reverence that Hinata wonders if the doctor knows he said anything at all, but the utterance is carnal and honeyed when it drips from his tongue. Hinata wants to taste it, too.

“’yama,” he breathes in reply, his restrained hands clutching at nothing up by the headboard.

The pull of those blue eyes back up Hinata’s bare body is un-rushed and lazy, almost drunk in the way they blink when their gazes realign.

There’s a pause, then, and the doctor’s slick, messy hand traces back up Hinata’s body to plant beside his face. And then Kageyama leans down slowly to brush their lips together, so silken and sweet it makes Hinata’s fluttering heart skip a beat.

When Kageyama pulls back, his hands are on the move again, releasing Hinata’s wrists and stroking down his arms, his shoulders, again over his over-sensitive sides and down to his quivering thighs, thumbs fitting into the creases of his hips and long fingers wrapping around to flex into the curve of his ass. Nothing could have ever prepared Hinata for sheer intensity of the pleasure the doctor is able to bring with nothing but his hands – his time on the exam table was _nothing_ compared to this, and even _then_ he almost came all over the floor. 

Hinata holds his breath when Kageyama moves low over him, dipping down and grazing his lips forward and back beneath his navel and over the slick, glossy skin, tongue running slowly over his bottom lip to taste Hinata’s arousal for him, eyes sliding shut and a groan of satisfaction humming in his throat.

 _‘There’s a lot more where that came from,’_ Hinata wants to tell him, but he doesn’t; the words get lost from his brain to his mouth with the most gorgeous man alive looking at Hinata from beneath his lashes, like he’s about to be devoured.

Hinata keens when those lips move to the inside of a thigh, hands increasing their pressure at his hips and thumbs moving in slow, firm circles, kneading the skin.

He’s a bundle of nerves, fraying at the ends and mewling to the ceiling when Kageyama pushes kiss after heated kiss to his skin, each one mounting in fervor, palms smoothing over his hips, exploratory as they caress his waist, dull nails drawing ruddy channels in their wake when they drag down over his ass, his thighs, the backs of his knees to his calves; it’s like Kageyama can’t get enough of him under his hands and mouth at once.

Kageyama is _feeling_ him.

Hinata is certain he’s never been so hard in his life, and yet he’s completely forgotten about his neglected cock, flushed pink and swollen and leaking all over his stomach; but the doctor is playing him like a finely-tuned instrument, his warm lips and big hands performing an entire goddamn symphony over and under his tingling skin.

His head is spinning and his own fingers wind into his hair to keep himself grounded as he lies there defenseless against the doctor’s talented hands and his intimate knowledge of the human body – its pleasure zones and pressure points and the sprawling map of all the areas in between that make Hinata writhe in a quiet bliss. And he hasn’t even touched his—

“Turn over.”

“Wh-what?” Hinata gasps, lifting his heavy head to look down at the other man.

“On your stomach,” Kageyama says, rough and deep, breath warm against the inside of Hinata’s thigh where his lips still press against the skin, fingertips rubbing in slow circles at his ankles.

And as if entranced by those dark blue eyes, hypnotized by need and anticipation, Hinata slowly rolls over, sliding his arms under a pillow and hugging it, stuffing his face into it. He huffs into the fabric when his aching cock pushes into the mattress, and then again when Kageyama grasps the backs of his thighs, carefully pulling his legs open farther.

The firm hands that glide up over his ass make his mouth drop open and eyelids flutter; the whisper of lips along his spine makes him whimper into the pillow as Kageyama expertly kneads the muscle.

Kageyama spreads the cheeks apart and presses them back together, thumbs rubbing gloriously close to his hole before he strokes up and down the column of Hinata’s spine. The weight on the bed shifts and the gentle pressure continues in warm, sweeping circles at his upper back, the bunching muscles of his shoulders and across the back of his neck.

He’s a puddle, melting into the soft bed; his typically taut, sports-abused body turning pliant and soft with every doting caress. All of his attempts at seduction from back in the car have been reduced to nothing but gasps and trembling while the doctor… what, massages him? No – it’s more like he’s mapping him, _knowing_ him with his hands, fingers gliding through the creases beneath his ass, dancing up over the curve of it, over every rapidly expanding and contracting ridge of his ribs, dull nails scratching along his scalp in his hair.

The man’s hands are _everywhere_.

There’s another shift of weight on the bed and Kageyama climbs up over him, hands and knees flanking his body. A second later warm breath rustles the hair by his ear; the doctor is breathing heavily, too.

 _“Hinata,_ ” he whispers before pressing a kiss below the line of damp red hair. The word tows Hinata back up through the haze of his sensual high, and Hinata realizes that he’s subtly rocking his hips in time with the short breaths puffing over his own lips, rubbing and pushing his cock against the comforter.

Hinata whines into the pillow in response, first tilting his hips back, seeking contact with the man blanketing his back with heat before rolling himself back down against the bed, a moan dying high in his throat. “More,” he begs, voice muffled in the pillow.

The doctor hums and nips at his shoulder, lowering himself to drag his cock through the cleft in Hinata’s ass. Hinata whines again and pushes back and Kageyama takes a sharp breath through his teeth, rutting back down against him firmly.

“O-off,” Hinata whimpers, “take them—your shorts—off.”

Kageyama’s warmth leaves him, then, the bed dipping beside him and Hinata rolls himself lazily onto his side, the pillow still clutched to his chest while he watches Kageyama lie back and slip the shorts over his ass through clouded, lidded eyes. In the back of his mind, Hinata thinks that _he_ should be the one undressing the other man, but his limbs feel far too heavy and warm and gooey that he’s certain his fingers just wouldn’t get the job done quick enough.

But when Kageyama’s erection finally springs free, Hinata can’t scramble up fast enough, his heart beating a mile a minute and wide eyes fixed on the heavy bob to it, the subtle upward curve, the shine of precum across the thick, red tip.

But all he gets is a fleeting look before Kageyama is over him again, between his legs and capturing his lips and lowering him back down to the bed.

“Relax, idiot,” Kageyama murmurs against his lips when Hinata’s arms wrap tightly around his neck and his hips buck up, desperate to feel the doctor’s bare skin against his own, but to no avail.

“How do you—‘spect me to relax with—”

“Shut _up_ ,” the doctor breathes in a way that makes Hinata do just that and drop his jaw to let him slip his tongue in his mouth, rolling it and drawing little moans of pleasure from Hinata.

Hinata feels himself loosening up again, thighs falling open wide in submission and arms dropping heavily to the bed beside his head.

As Kageyama presses a trail of kisses down his neck, the snap of a bottle opening barely registers as a sound amidst the dense fog of need until—

“ _Ah!”_ Hinata cries, back arching when warm, slick fingers encircle the base of his cock. “When—when did you—” he gasps, working his eyes open in time to see Kageyama dropping the bottle of lube to the bed.

“Magic,” Kageyama says, eyes dark when he meets Hinata’s gaze, stroking up the length in his hand slowly.

“Y- _yeah—_ ” Hinata agrees, struggling to keep his eyes open to watch Kageyama watch him fall apart as he’s worked better than he’s ever been in his life; there is most definitely something _magic_ about the doctor’s touch—something that maybe runs a little deeper than just an expert knowledge of the human form. “H-hands,” Hinata mewls vaguely as Kageyama strokes him again from base to tip. “Your—your hands.”

“What about them?” Kageyama asks, breath fanning warm over Hinata’s panting lips.

“’s good—” Hinata breathes in their shared air, “—so good. You’re so— _good—”_

Hinata continues to babble in kind, his own hands rising to paw at the doctor’s hair and at his shoulders, hips thrusting into that slick palm as the muscles in his stomach wind up tight. He has to crane his neck to see Kageyama’s swollen cock hanging between his legs.

“’yama—” he bleats, letting his head fall back heavily, “I’m—I’m gonna come—”

“Yeah?” Kageyama asks in a short breath, licking his lips.

Hinata mewls his response, screwing his eyes shut as the throbbing pressure low in his belly builds and builds, his toes curling and—

Kageyama’s hand stills, his fingers gripped tightly around the base of Hinata’s twitching cock.

Hinata sobs something wordless and desperate, but it segues immediately into a ragged moan when those fingers release him and slip down over his entrance, circling the sensitive flesh in a way that makes his head spin.

“Yes— _yes—”_ Hinata gasps and tosses his head to the side, finally getting what he’s been dreaming about, “there—right—right there—”

Kageyama hums low in his throat and presses a kiss to the slope of Hinata’s shoulder and then drags his lube- and cum-slicked hand up Hinata’s chest to gently grasp Hinata’s chin, messing his skin as he coaxes Hinata to meet his eyes.

“I want to see your face,” Kageyama tells him.

“Please,” Hinata whimpers, “I need—I— _inside,_ Kageyama—”

Blue eyes flash and Kageyama’s fingers are back at Hinata’s hole in an instant, stroking at the waiting flesh.

And when a single finger sinks into him, all the breath drains from Hinata’s lungs in a slow, streaming exhale. He forces his eyes to remain open and watches Kageyama bite his lip while he pushes in deeper before drawing back out… and then in again. In and out, forward and back, Kageyama fucks Hinata shallowly with his finger.

With his jaw dropping open, Hinata feels himself rising into the air, weightless in the vast ether of ecstasy; his vision swims with phantom colors and shooting stars when fingertips just barely graze against his prostate – oh shit, when did he even add that second finger – digits curling inside of him and stretching him deliciously wide. Every agonizing brush against that spot inside him is paired with a sharp, sobbing moan, but the doctor doesn’t grant him more than the barest amount of pressure, backing off with a roll of his wrist that has his tongue panting and thighs trembling, fingers twisting into the rumpled comforter below him. He’s brought to the brink again and again, cock leaking obscenely over his stomach, running down his length and over Kageyama’s fingers where they sink into him.

“You look—amazing,” Kageyama tells him, his voice deep and graveled.

Hinata thinks that his tongue is too thick to reply, throat too full of rough, sucking inhales to tell Kageyama that it _feels_ amazing, that the doctor’s measured, rapt gaze on his pleasure-wrecked face makes him feel desired – fucking _wanted_ in a way that he’s never felt before.

“’s—s-so much—” Hinata stammers, jolting with every curl of fingers.

“What?”

“So—so much— _more—_ ” he tries again, eyes pleading for Kageyama to understand.

“I’ll give you more,” the doctor whispers, “just—”

Hinata thrashes his head back and forth, gasping hard when fingers rub firmly inside him. “N-No,” he pants. “I—I—mean—” Hinata breaks off when Kageyama stills, blue eyes worried, now, and fingers still buried inside him.

“I mean,” Hinata licks his lips, hips shaking with the effort to keep them still, “it’s more than—t-than I thought it would—” he pauses, suddenly realizing that this might be a strange thing to say.

Dark brows furrow over searching blue eyes. “Am I hurting you?”

“No!” Hinata wails, throwing an arm over his burning face.

“Then what--”

“It feels _incredible_ ,” Hinata cries into his skin, “and it feels… _I_ feel... I’m feeling _a lot_ , okay?” He squeezes his eyes shut in humiliation. The tear that slips free does nothing to settle it – not that he doesn’t cry all the time, anyway, but it’s not like the doctor really knows that. And it’s not like he’s actually _crying._ But he feels like some blushing virgin, embarrassed to death by the emotion welling up in his chest. He shudders when he feels Kageyama’s fingers withdraw slowly, and then Kageyama is nudging his arm off his face with his nose, dropping his forehead against Hinata’s and breathing steadily for several, otherwise silent, seconds.

“I know,” he says finally, drawing back to look Hinata in the face. “I…” he pauses, averting his eyes, “I am, too.”

Hinata arches a brow. “You— _wah!_ ” But then he’s being hauled up, thighs fitting wide over Kageyama’s when he sits them upright, a strong arm looped around the small of his back. They’re breathing each other’s air again, and Hinata’s hands cup Kageyama’s face, thumbs smoothing over the defined cheekbone while they just stare at each other. Hinata swallows and tries to ask a question again, but the moment he opens his mouth, Kageyama shifts Hinata in his lap and their cocks slide together, giving Hinata the first taste of the man’s hardened flesh against his.

“O-oh—” Hinata moans, rolling his hips up to glide their slick skin together again. Kageyama groans against his lips and Hinata drops a hand between them, encircling them both with shaking fingers. The other man responds with a sharp upward thrust, lips falling open beneath Hinata’s own.

Hinata can feel the doctor pulse and throb in his hand and against his own aching length and suddenly he remembers how empty and half-prepared he is. “I need you inside me,” he pleads, squeezing them together, “please, Kageyama… _please_ don’t make me wait anymore.”

Kageyama swallows thickly and nods, a little eagerly, and then Hinata is on his back again with the doctor dropping low between his legs and the bottle of lube open and drizzling into his palm.

Only this time when Kageyama slips a finger into him, it’s immediately two, and he kisses down Hinata’s thigh to take the tip of his cock between his lips.

Hinata rocks up off the bed at the suddenness of the new sensation, back bowing and hands grabbing hard and frantic at black locks.

The curl to Kageyama’s fingers is hurried now, but no less gentle as he works Hinata open.

“Oh my _god_ —” Hinata cries when the doctor bobs his head, tongue swirling and sliding over the swollen flesh and throat vibrating on a groan of satisfaction.

He’s clenching down over Kageyama’s fingers, hips jerking erratically and every muscle in his body burning and taut under the weight of too much pleasure. When Kageyama works in a third and final finger, Hinata feels himself coming apart at the seams – the stretch is exquisite and the fullness is driving him up the wall. The man’s tongue rivals the talent of his fingers where it laps at him, down the side of his cock before stuffing Hinata back into his throat. Hinata wants to scream his name, to rattle the walls and send the neighbors banging on the man’s door, but he can’t even _breathe_ let alone yell – he can’t think nor see nor hear anything except the hot rush of blood in his ears and the wild racing of his heart. But he wants more – he wants _all_ of it. He wants – no, he fucking _needs_ to be split open, impaled and ravaged and filled and bounced and spread wide and fucked and… and fucking _kissed_ and touched and held so close he could swear that he and Kageyama were melting into one. He needs it, he fucking _needs—_

 _“Hah—ah!”_ Hinata sobs when Kageyama’s fingers slip out of his stretched hole and wet lips suck off his dripping cock; the doctor straightens up, kneeling between his wide-spread thighs and wipes his dripping mouth with the back of his hand. Hinata grips at his own hair, a raspy nasally whine rising from his throat and he says, “ _hurry.”_

Kageyama crawls over him and stretches a long arm towards the nightstand, yanking open the drawer and fishing out a condom which he opens with his teeth in a second flat.

He’s back over Hinata once the condom is in place, between his legs and one hand planted beside his head, the other gripping his thick length.

“I want you like this,” Kageyama breathes, lowering himself to brush his lips against Hinata’s.

“Just— _yes_ ,” Hinata whimpers, wrapping his legs around the other man’s solid waist. “Hurry, _hurry—”_

And then Kageyama is pressing his hips forward; Hinata’s breath catches sharply when that thick head nudges against his hole. When at last it pushes into the slick relaxed muscle, Hinata’s mouth drops open in a silent cry, eyes squeezing shut so tight tears leak out the sides. His hands grip frantically at strong, sweat-slick shoulders as he’s slowly filled inch by swollen inch with that throbbing length.

His heart feels like it’s bursting open and his shaking legs go numb; being stretched like this should hurt, and fuck it _does_ hurt, but it hurts so _good_ that Hinata’s lungs forget to breathe. When Kageyama pauses, Hinata gasps in raggedly, body lurching with the force of it.

“S-shit, Shouyou,” Kageyama answers with a gasp of his own. Hinata can feel him shaking. “You’re— _god_ —t-tight—”

Hinata nods frantically, sobbing out another breath and pulling another back in.

“Is it—are you—in pain—"

“No!” Hinata cries, locking his ankles behind Kageyama’s back. “I—I need—are you—all the way—”

“Half-way,” Kageyama drops his head to speak against Hinata’s ear; his voice is strained and pulled as tight as Hinata feels.

Hinata whimpers, turning his head to find Kageyama lips. He kisses them hard and rolls his own hips up, dragging a deep groan out of Kageyama’s heaving chest. “More—” he bleats, “all of it—all of you—”

Kageyama’s breath is warm where he stuffs his face against the side of Hinata’s neck and he pushes forward, sinking into him deeper. Hinata’s insides throb around the intrusion, shifting to accommodate the doctor in his entirety; and when he feels Kageyama’s thighs push flush against his ass he almost gives a whoop of victory, but with being so thoroughly stuffed he can barely fit himself with the oxygen he needs to live.

“Are you—okay?” Kageyama asks, panting into Hinata’s skin.

“Just—n-need a second,” Hinata rasps. Kageyama is still shaking, and Hinata wonders how hard he’s trying not to thrust into him hard and fast; the mere thought of it has him relaxing around the stiff cock, imagining the doctor taking him roughly and desperately and pounding him into the mattress has his legs widening. And knowing how kindly he would be treated after makes his heart swell.

He knows that Kageyama can feel the change in constriction as he adjusts to his size by the small sigh that fans across the heated skin of Hinata’s throat and the shaking subsides, giving way to the smallest tilt of his hips, the slowest, smallest of thrusts into Hinata’s tight heat.

“Hinata,” Kageyama moans weakly, “can—can I—”

“Yeah,” Hinata mewls, nodding quickly. “I’m—ready for you—so ready—"

Kageyama lifts his hips slowly, experimentally, before sliding back in and meeting Hinata in a shallow thrust.

Hinata keens when he does it again, their eyes meeting before Hinata’s head knocks back against the bed at the next drive of hips, the whole of the doctor’s long, thick length grinding slowly through what feels like every inch of Hinata’s insides when he rocks back out, the tip grazing over his prostate and shaking an unbidden cry of Kageyama’s name right out of him; it’s to this that Kageyama starts to fuck into him hard, though still slow, strong hips rolling and snapping forward and hands moving to grip the sides of Hinata’s torso, anchoring him while he drags his swollen head almost past the tight ring of muscle before slamming back in.

Hinata cries out every time his body is jerked on the bed; his hands fall from Kageyama’s shoulders and press flat to the headboard, helping keep himself in place for Kageyama to pound into – giving himself over completely to the doctor’s need.

“Fuck— _ah—fuck—_ fuck me—fuck me—” Hinata babbles, brown eyes rolling up before falling closed.

Kageyama growls, mouthing down over Hinata’s throat, across his collar bones and his shoulders. With those lips all over him and Kageyama’s cock dragging perfectly inside him, Hinata’s muscles pull tight in his stomach, coiling up like a red-hot tendril.

“You’re gonna—make me—come—” Hinata sobs in time with the doctor’s driving hips. “Feels—too good—”

The doctor nods against him, angling his hips in a way that makes lights burst behind Hinata’s eyes. “Come on my dick,” Kageyama pants against his racing pulse, “come with me—inside you—”

Hinata doesn’t have much of a choice with the way the head of Kageyama’s cock is rubbing deep inside him, robbing him completely of any thought or restraint or any fucking identity. He rolls his hips up to meet each one of the doctor’s thrusts, edging up closer and closer to the peak while fingers drag up into the hair at the back of his head and grip tight and Kageyama presses his lips to his ear and breathes, “ _come, Shouyou.”_

And Hinata does – he comes hard, spurting thick and hot from his untouched cock as ecstasy ripples through him in a pulsing wave, trembling his legs around Kageyama’s waist and dropping his mouth open while he splatters their chests with heavy white ribbons. He’s still coming when Kageyama captures his open lips, groaning into the messy kiss and hips stuttering; and then Hinata feels that thick flesh beat inside him, Kageyama pressing all the way into him, body shaking as he spills into the condom.

Hinata’s limbs crash heavily back to the bed once Kageyama stills and they are nothing but a mess of sweat and cum and ragged breathing. Kageyama carefully pulls out of him and rolls onto his back, panting and running a hand through his hair after the condom is tied off and tossed… wherever. 

“Um,” Hinata starts stupidly, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth, “that—”

“Wow,” Kageyama finishes for him, turning his head to meet Hinata’s glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” Hinata says with a swallow, nodding as quickly as his heavy body will allow. “Wow.”

They lie there in silence for several minutes as a cool breeze drifts in from an open window, caressing Hinata’s flushed skin and drying the sweat and cum on his chest. He can feel his eyelids getting heavy and his sated body sinking into the plush comforter as sleep creeps up on him.

“Hey,” Kageyama murmurs, tracing the line of Hinata’s jaw with a gentle finger and bringing him back from the edge of unconsciousness.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

Hinata breathes out a tired laugh and rolls onto his side to face the other man. When Kageyama draws his hand away, Hinata catches it and brings it back to his face, nuzzling into the palm. “Of course, stupid,” he says to the warm hand – it’s maybe a little more lubed up than he’d like but he’s sleepy who cares.

“Good,” Kageyama replies shortly, moving his hand to sweep Hinata’s sweaty bangs off his forehead. Hinata sighs happily at the gesture, letting his eyelids flutter.

He yawns, then, and a second later a strong arm is encircling him and sliding him a short distance across the sheets, settling him against Kageyama’s chest.

It’s his heart’s turn to flutter. But—

“Kageyama…” he grumbles where he’s pressed against the man’s skin. “I’m…” his mind flits around all the appropriate adjectives to describe what he is at that moment before he settles on the best one, “…gross.”

“So am I,” the doctor mutters. “You came on me.”

Hinata whines sheepishly tucking his face into the doctor’s sweaty neck. “’s your fault.”

“Mmhm.”

The intimacy of their position slowly unfurls a new self-consciousness within him, and Hinata works his hands between their messy chests, pressing his palms to Kageyama and putting the smallest distance between them.

“I should… shower,” Hinata mumbles.

Kageyama hums his dissent low in his throat and loops another arm around Hinata’s back, squashing him to his chest. “No,” he grunts into red hair. “Sleep now.”

“But—” Hinata protests, muffled. He’s cut off by Kageyama detaching an arm from him and reaching for a corner of the bedding behind Hinata, which he drags up over the both of them.

“Sleep,” Kageyama says again. “Doctor’s orders.”

Sleep does sound heavenly, and being wrapped up in the doctor’s strong arms while he does sounds…

What’s more blissful than _heavenly_? But—

“Your prescription is suffocating me,” Hinata says to Kageyama’s chest.

There’s just a bit a wiggling once Kageyama gives him room to breathe and Hinata flips around in the other man’s warm embrace. When knees tuck up behind his own and breath falls evenly against the back of his neck, it’s hard to resist further.

And so, Hinata sleeps.

* * *

 

Hinata wakes to a gentle pleasure, not quite sexual, but there’s a whisper of a memory still trapped in the ether of sleep that calls to mind something quietly carnal in the fingers flitting over his skin in the warmth of the early morning sun. He feels so heavy, lying on his side and sunk into the plush, downy bedding. He’s sore, but it’s a… a triumphant kind of sore – celebratory; the kind of sore that’s typically paired with a well-fought volleyball game that ends in victory.

But this… this is just a little different.

He hums deeply before cracking his eyes, reveling in the sweep of a palm over his hip, fingers trailing down the inside of his thigh as the memories from last night come breezing back.

When his eyes blink open, Kageyama is lying beside him, watching him.

“Good morning,” the doctor says lowly, tracing soft, languid circles up over Hinata’s hip with the tips of his fingers.

Hinata just whines and rolls onto his stomach to hide his blushed cheeks into the pillow.

“Better morning,” Kageyama murmurs when his hand smooths over the swell of Hinata’s upturned ass. Fingers flex into the muscle gently. “You sore?”

“A little,” Hinata grumbles into the pillow. “Does virginity grow back?”

“What are you, a starfish?” The doctor asks as his palm graces over the small of Hinata’s back.

“Huh?” Hinata rolls his head on the pillow to peek at the other man.

“Yeah that didn’t really make sense.”

Hinata lifts his head, then, turning to survey his present situation. They’re lying on top of a very luxurious, fluffy white comforter, the sides crumpled around them as if they built a nest in their sleep. He probably kicked the coverings off during the night.

“I think I parked on my lawn,” the doctor says flatly, zoned out as he stares unseeing towards the foot of the bed.

“I left all my stuff at the gym,” Hinata mutters, flopping back down into the pillow.

Hinata closes his eyes against the annoying prospect of making his way back to the gymnasium or his house without his cellphone or wallet. And with his keys stuck in the locker room he probably can’t even go home unless Kenma happens to be there, and it’s not like he can _call_ the guy to make sure, so he _has_ to go back to the gym first and then get a cab or something and he still has to go pick up his car from wherever that stupid thing is and—

His lament is interrupted by Kageyama yanking one of the ends of the bedding up over them again and draping an arm loosely around Hinata’s waist. Hinata shuffles around to face Kageyama, pillowing his face with a hand while the other reaches to drift over the other man’s chest.

“I can give you a ride back,” Kageyama says quietly with his eyes shut loosely.

“Oh,” Hinata blinks in surprise. “Um. ‘kay.”

But as Hinata is watching him, Kageyama’s brow furrows and he sits up, knees drawing up beneath the comforter and resting his arms around them.

“I um,” Kageyama starts slowly, staring hard at the foot of the bed. Blue eyes dart back and forth as the doctor searches for his words, combing his fingers through his hair in a way that almost seems nervous before looping his arms back around his widened knees, clasping his hands together at the front. Hinata watches his handsome face carefully while Kageyama chews on his lip as he thinks. Hinata recalls the feel of those lips all over him last night, blushing deeply at the tenderness they showed him, rather than at the fervor and obscene desperation. Well, he’s obviously thinking about all that too, but he feels a heat spreading through his chest at the memory of those lips brushing softly against his, the way they parted around his name and kissed over his skin. The way Kageyama dragged the bottom one through his teeth before he told Hinata he was feeling a lot, too—

“I’ve never,” Kageyama starts again, letting out a sigh, “really... had a one night stand before…”

_Oh._

OH.

Hinata’s eyes fly wide and he pushes himself up off the bed, fighting against the weight of his heart as it plummets to the floor.

_Oh._

He blinks rapidly, swallowing hard and wildly jerking his eyes around the room to keep them everywhere except Kageyama.

“O-oh!” He says quickly, scrambling off the bed clumsily and struggling to keep the sudden pain in his chest firmly down deep inside himself where that shit belongs. “Okay, then! I’ll—just let me find my clothes—I think my shirt is um—” he can’t believe the ache behind his eyes as he stumbles around to the other side of the bed, dropping to his knees to look under it; he’s so stupid, so _fucking_ stupid. “—s-sorry,” he says, bouncing back up, pretending to visually sweep the room in search of his clothes and doing all he can to keep his stinging eyes hidden, running around to the other side of the bed again, “I’ll just—I can get a cab if—I just have to borrow your phone for a quick second—sorry—I—” but then his wrist is caught and he’s roughly yanked forward, tumbling into the soft bed and right up against Kageyama’s warm chest.

“AND,” Kageyama growls deeply, dropping his face into Hinata’s hair and arms tightening around him, “I’d rather not start now.” He huffs in exasperation. “You didn’t let me finish, dumbass.”

And in Kageyama’s arms, he feels himself melt – mostly out of humiliation, but _mostly_ , well… because. _Because._

There’s one last comforting squeeze to his torso before he’s released. He pops his head up to look Kageyama in the face with wide eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kageyama grumbles, averting his gaze. “I um,” he clears his throat, “won’t stop you from leaving though,” he adds quickly. “If you want to leave, I mean. If that was all you wanted then… well obviously you can go. I can… uh, live with that.”

It takes Hinata a couple seconds to recover from how endearingly nervous the stoic man is acting and to arrange his heart back to where it needs to be, but once he can function again,

“Well,” he says, straddling the doctor’s waist and keeping his insane grin to nothing but a sly smirk while his stomach swoops and flutters with butterflies, “I’m going to have to leave eventually. But…” he looks away for dramatic effect, “I think I can stay if you were going to make breakfast or something.”

“Okay good—”

Hinata yelps when Kageyama crushes him back to his chest.

“Because I lied. I wasn’t really going to let you leave,” he mutters into red hair.

“You sex criminal!” Hinata squawks at the doctor’s chest, flailing around and giggling crazily as they both tumble back into the blankets, rolling over twice before Hinata ends up back on top again “Hey!” He pops back up and jabs a finger at Kageyama’s sternum. “Speaking of which!”

Kageyama’s eyes get wide and he presses his head back against the pillow, blinking up at Hinata. “Is there something I should know?”

“Is there something _I_ should know?” Hinata retorts, folding his arms over his chest, thighs squeezing hard over Kageyama’s middle. Just because he wants to.

“Huh?”

“I remember you being pretty surprised when you found out how old I was.”

Kageyama wrinkles his nose – an absurd expression on that handsome face. Hinata can’t help but giggle.

“In the office!” Hinata says. “You called me short!”

“You are short.”

“You _said_ ,” Hinata says, his cheeks pinking at the memory of being pushed up against the lockers not ten hours prior, “you wanted me the moment you saw me!”

 “Well, considering I’m not a pediatrician, I’d say I wasn’t too concerned,” Kageyama says, unfazed.

“Oh… yeah, well,” Hinata crosses his arms over his chest again. “Still.”

“And I wasn’t lying,” Kageyama tells him, placing his hands on Hinata’s thighs. “I _did_ want you the moment I saw you.”

“Okay, okay I get it—"

“About two years ago.”

Hinata’s face slackens. Then he cocks his head. “Huh?”

"At one of your games."

Hinata's head cocks further.

"I saw you play."

Hinata's head is about to cock right off his neck.

“I knew who you were, dumbass.”

Hinata blinks dumbly. “But you—you acted—wait, _what!?_ ”

“What volleyball player doesn’t know Hinata Shouyou?”

Hinata stares at the doctor, absolutely dumbfounded. “You… but you… you acted like you… you had no idea—”

“I felt kind of… weird about it,” Kageyama says uncomfortably. “I didn’t really know how to… bring it up, so—”

“So you pretended not to know me!?”

“Well I _didn’t_ know you!” Kageyama snaps. “I’ve _seen_ you—”

"You acted so surprised when you found out I played volleyball!"

"I was just happy I had an excuse to tell you I did, too."

"You asked me what position I played!"

"It's called a bedside manner, idiot! I was trying to distract you from the procedure!"

"You couldn't talk about the weather!?"

"I thought your ass made for a better topic."

"Did you—" Hinata starts shrilly, but then he pauses, jerking a little when he lets his next thought develop completely in his head. He drops his eyes, his sinking heart dragging his shoulders down. "Did you," he starts again, voice small, "just want to get into my pants because of who I am?"

“What!?” The doctor cries, sitting up quickly and jostling Hinata in his lap. “No!”

Hinata frowns and looks off to the side.

“No,” Kageyama says firmly, fitting his hands to Hinata’s hips, blue eyes searching over Hinata’s face when Hinata looks back at him. “I never expected any of this to happen.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Seeing you in person was completely different,” Kageyama tells him. “The only thing I knew about you was that you were this… _incredible_ player despite your size and,” Kageyama swallows, a blush rising high in his cheeks, “you look _really_ good in your uniform.”

Hinata feels his own cheeks heating again.

“But you were so much… I don’t know, more _real_ in the office that day,” the doctor says fondly. “And at the bar… you suddenly weren’t the same person that I watched on the court. I-I mean you _were_ —” Kageyama stammers, “just… just a lot _cuter._ ”

Hinata feels a smile tugging up at the corner of his mouth. He bites his lip to hide it, but to no avail.

“Everything that happened lately…” Kageyama says softly, fingers dimpling the flesh of Hinata’s thighs, “I just… I wasn’t thinking clearly. I know that—”

“Shut up,” Hinata huffs, grabbing Kageyama’s face in his hands. “I’m not mad, idiot.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” Hinata sighs. “Not even… like, at _all_. Even though I feel like I should be,” he finishes with a grumble.

“Yeah, you probably should be,” Kageyama admits. “I’m pretty creepy.”

“Yes,” Hinata says, nodding seriously.

Kageyama purses his lips and grabs at a pillow to whack Hinata in the face.

Hinata dissolves into laughter and flops back onto the bed while Kageyama hits him again and then tosses the pillow over the edge of the bed, climbing up over him.

“I swear,” Kageyama says, pinning Hinata’s hands to either side of his head gently as Hinata’s giggling subsides, “just because I’ve jerked off to your picture a couple times doesn’t mean—”

“’Kageyama!” Hinata shrieks, thrashing against Kageyama’s hands and kicking in the tangled bedding.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Kageyama laughs. “Settle down.”

Hinata pouts his lips and scrunches up his face as he stills, glaring up at the man above him.

“Well,” Kageyama licks his lips and flicks his eyes away, “I’m not, actually—”

“I knew it,” Hinata scoffs. “Sex criminal.”

“But now you’re this real person to me,” Kageyama tells him, expression serious. “And that’s… I… I actually _like_ you.”

Hinata is certain that if he doesn’t get up now his flushed skin is going to set Kageyama’s bed on fire.

“I don’t know how else to put it,” Kageyama breathes out in frustration. “I just want you to understand—”

“I understand, Kageyama,” Hinata says with a roll of his eyes and a smile he doesn’t even try to hide. “Now let me up.”

When Kageyama releases him, Hinata immediately winds his arms around the doctor’s neck and pulls him down, kissing him hard. “I promise I don’t care that you’re a creepy stalker,” he says to the man’s lips.

“Mm,” Kageyama hums, kissing him again. “And I promise I don’t care that the thought of me giving you a prostate exam almost made you shoot your load all over my exam table.”

Hinata groans loudly and wiggles out from beneath Kageyama to dive into the blankets on the other side of the bed, burrowing as deep as he can and wrapping himself up tightly. “You noticed?” Hinata mumbles from his lumpy cocoon.

“How could I not?” Kageyama says with a snort.

Hinata lies beneath the covers and wishes for a swift death for about a minute before Kageyama unwraps him like a present.

“I didn’t think your hair could look any stupider.”

“Shut up,” Hinata mumbles, patting his head.

“Come shower with me,” Kageyama says firmly.

“Hey wait a minute," Hinata huffs, looking Kageyama in the eye. “You better be planning on making me breakfast after all that!”

“Yeah, well,” Kageyama says lowly, bringing a hand up to run his thumb over Hinata’s bottom lip, “I was thinking about feeding you something else first. You asked for it, after all.”

Hinata’s eyes fly wide and he’s pretty sure he audibly gulps as Kageyama’s scoops him up in his arms, lifting him into the air bridal style before the doctor’s long legs carry them out of the room and down the hall.

“And I promised to give you everything you wanted,” Kageyama reminds him with his lips pressed against his ear.

“I have a long list,” Hinata says with a shiver, his cock already perking up between his thighs.

“Me too,” Kageyama murmurs, setting Hinata onto the cool counter next to the bathroom sink.

“Well then, _doctor_ ,” Hinata purrs wrapping his legs around Kageyama’s hips and pulling him close to speak against his lips. “We better get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END QUESTION MARK AMIRITE
> 
> I unconsciously implied that ever since Kags developed his little celebrity crush, Hinata hadn't hooked up with anyone. How conveniently romantic :D
> 
> If you like Dr. Kags shenanigans then come yell about it with me on [Tumblr!](http://majesticartax.tumblr.com/) Or just keep all your feelings to your self and enjoy it privately because let's be honest life is expensive and socializing is awful :D I love you just for reading!! :DD


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